They cannot let it expand. They cannot let it expand. They cannot let it expand. They cannot let it. . They cannot let it expand. They cannot let it expand.
Time will have warranted all that the foliage brung. Falls to the ground at the feet of the old and the young. Tired and worn from a life made of wallow and pain.
Oh, it must be over there, see. In the tall weeds with his head leaned. By an anthill, by some water. With a trumpet, lightly sleeps the jungler. . But I'm not too sure.