Potatoes
Créé par marisusis avec Udio AI
Lyrics
Yet I stroll past your fields, in denial, so surreal I ponder if your tubers truly grow 'Course they don't I saunter through the aisles Where your eyes seem to beguile But I deny the sprouts you claim to show In the ground, do they thrive, such a quaint, spud-filled lie Harvest tales spun, oh, so elaborately sewn I refute By the stands, skeptically Your tales of root pedigree I'm walking on, unswayed by the dirt-yielded trove Through the dirt, unimpressed, all your claims I contest Even photosynthesize, I propose with jest Fantasy spades Wander 'round these market rows Find your tales of starch expose Yet in my mind, there's no spuds to be disposed And so I peer, under skies, mock surprise, I feign cries Wondering if these tubers are but lore Oh, the spud In my hand, feel the weight Still resist, it's too late My disbelief is sprouting something more Oh the sight (what a sight) Of tuber tales spun in light I chuckle at the thought, this crop escrowed Yes I do Yet a part of me inquires While my rationale requires
