The Fly
Looked bad at the time of its birth
Its looks would change, but not its worth
One second it would ride the wind
And walk on feces, not chagrined
Though in the midst of a public throng
Helps himself to food and flies along
Looked bad at the time of its birth
Its looks would change, but not its worth
One second it would ride the wind
And walk on feces, not chagrined
Though in the midst of a public throng
Helps himself to food and flies along