She stumbles down most every place she goes   Don't blame me if she can't see in front of her nose   The cold Summer steams up her rosy glasses   Just like a run through her growing grasses      When we walk she runs just to keep up   It would help if she got up off of her knees   And when we stand in an open field   She claims she can't see the sun for the trees      Soon she'll be inspired      She complains about my second skin   It's just too dirty for her to see through   And she whines when you invite her in   It's just too low for her to steep to      Soon she'll be inspired