And The Tree Was Happy

Never Explain What You Do. It Speaks For Itself. You Only Muddle It By Talking About It.

But All The Magic I Have Known I've Had To Make Myself.

I Tried On The Farmer's Hat, Didn't Fit. . . A Little Too Small - Just A Bit Too Floppy. . . . . I Tried On The Summer Sun, Felt Good. Nice And Warm - Knew It Would. Tried The Grass Beneath Bare Feet, Felt Neat. Finally, Finally Felt Well Dressed, Nature's Clothes Fit Me Best.

My Skin Is Kind Of Sort Of Brownish Pinkish Yellowish White. My Eyes Are Greyish Blueish Green, But I'm Told They Look Orange In The Night. My Hair Is Reddish Blondish Brown, But Its Silver When Its Wet, And All The Colors I Am Inside Have Not Been Invented Yet.

Oh I'm Lookin' For My Missin' Piece I'm Lookin' For My Missin' Piece Hi-dee-ho, Here I Go, Lookin' For My Missin' Piece