(Fallon, Gaster, Maines, Sult)
Could've been a swan on a glassy lake. Could've been a gull in a clipper's
wake.
Could've been a ladybug on a windchime, but she was born a dragonfly.

In the sun she warmed her wings and listened to cicadas sing.
"The trees are bending in one direction because of something...."
Cross-pollenation by the legs of bees in spring is a beautiful thing.
Oh when the sun goes down the fireflies come out.
In a pond crept in a slimy thing that hummed a theme from the Rites of Spring.
Pity the mate of Queen Mantis, so content, but so headless.
Katy did nothing but shiver and cry, as did the dragonfly.
In the shade the gypsies spin. Among the cloves they drop their skin.
"...beyond the hedgegrove, over by the willows, deep in the shadows..."
Regeneration occurs at a furious speed beneath the white oak tree.
And when the sun comes up the moonbuds fold up.
In the sun she warmed her wing and listened to the Rites of Spring.
Could've been a swan on a glassy lake. Could've been a gull in a clipper's
wake.
Could've been a ladybug on a windchime, but she was born a dragonfly.
In the sun she warmed her wings and listened to cicadas sing.
"...ain't ever seen it, but I have heard it.
Sounds like millstones when they are turning,
but every moment getting louder and louder,
and then there is silence and the smell of flowers."