Its bells don't ring; they shine red, green, and yellow Tiny black seeds that season your meal, Or thin, red, or green when you need some heat

You thought it was songs, But the app said no? 'Radio Art' ? It's what helps the heat flow...

From regal crowns, I proudly sprout, In forest halls, where creatures rout. A branching peak on nature's throne, Majestic horns of bone alone.

In summer's sway, with a rind so thick, inside lies the sun's juicy trick. Green or yellow, sweet and round, a picnic's joy can be found.

I used to be one, but aeons wore me down, From what i am now, time's passage was drawn. Cast me in flame, unite me true, and once i am pure, you will see through.