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