Greenough sang:
Plots mislead us
When they smile, they aren't smiling, really
When they look sad, we become completely their prey
I know
Life is plot-less
Only the flower pots are real.
Away from plots, I say
Because they mislead, breed hatred, misunderstanding
They hand out false hope as if it were free money
Like it was good music (or something. . .)
But no, I say no, I only care about franky-frank truths!
No more hanky-panky straight-looking but crooked lines, please. "
Accordingly, flowers flew and birds bloomed.
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