I fill the morning with delight, And disappear into the night, It's like the whistle that birds do, Crickets claim my sound too, A tiny song for everyone, It's quick and sharp and then I'm gone.

I’m all around you, but not all you breathe. Without enough of me, life grows very brief.

A pirate taught me how to swear, Now every sailor gives me a glare, I can be your wingman, I'll lean on your shoulders like none can, Secrets are something I can't keep, And everything you tell me I repeat.

Oh heavens, as slow as molasses in January, this creature lounges like a granny on a Sunday afternoon. Moving along with the leisure of a noon shadow, it teaches patience like a warm hug from yesteryears.

Go out and touch the first five Last six are Stranger Things sheriff, still alive All together it's an insect green Or a cocktail made with menthe de creme