All flowers head before they're dead, With beauty, aromas, and flares, And the flowers of the mind are hardest to find, Because of the someone who cares. He pampers them fit by using his wit, In patches of wire and screen, Staggering them 'round that hallowed ground, In hope that they won't be seen. Don't shake your head till you've heard what he said, For he spoke of it the other day, We know the greed caused by that seed, But that's not my cause, he went on to say. We need law and order from border to border, But the order of that law is slightly bent, Forcing my hand to the promised land, And with these parting words, he went. The law says this and we don't dismiss, On the points of its legality, But why should I be refused the sky, To escape from damn reality.