Oh lookie, lookie,
The flowers are blooming,
All over the emerald green meadow.
Oh lookie, lookie,
The sky larks are singing,
Of bluebells and daisies and fleecy white clouds.
Oh lookie, oh lookie,
The young deer are playing,
Keeping an ever vigilant eye.
Oh lookie, just lookie,
The flowers are blooming,
On gossamer fields and young trees alike.
So lookie, oh lookie,
And see the world blooming,
Fresh from a winter of cold ground and sky.

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