White is the colour of bread,
The hair on my grandmother's head,
The colour of eyes,
And whipped cream pies,
Of baseballs,
And hospital walls,
But there is one thing,
And we all know,
White is the colour,
Of snow,
White is what you see for miles and miles,
If you live in the land of snow piles,
Way up in the Canada North,
I can't think of something that rhymes with North...
I will go crazy,
Eyesight go hazy,
If I see any more white,
Any snow in my sight,
Bread, teeth, hair,
I really do not care,
If I see it one more time,
I'll turn myself in for a fake crime,
So they can lock me away,
And I won't have to see snow any day!
I will cheer and whoop, ''Hooray!''
No more snow for the rest of my days!
The beauty of snow,
Angel of death,
Kills all that grows,
Cold as ice,
Not very nice,
Destroys all life,
Cuts like a knife,
Yet there still is good in snow,
I know!
It paves the way for things that grow,
Melting and giving water for plants,
Giving me lots of ideas for rants! ; )
So you know what?
I kind of like white!
You can get me out of prison now,
Right?...
