My Mellow Yellow Rose
My mellow yellow rose,
You don't wear socks or hose.
You grow from a root
You never laugh or toot.
You have such will power.
You are such a lovely flower.
On your stem you have a thorn.
In your petals a cross is worn.
If cut you would gradually die.
Then Linda-Marie Bariana would cry.
We can't have that so you must stay alive.
And on your stem you will grow and thrive.
My mellow yellow rose,
With help from above still grows.
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