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The Idea Contraption

Oh my gosh!
Here, Here!
It's much the same,
Each time of year.
 
Hang out,
Now give me five,
Change your tune,
With a song of surprise.
 
There went nothing,
So you kicked the ball,
My frame of mind,
Is still on the wall.
 
My workhorse plays,
But I'm still thankful,
At the moment,
It seems so practical.
 
The world needs more flowers,
Isn't that the truth,
It's what the doctor ordered,
As he rides the red caboose.
 
Don't tread on me,
Because I'll show you the ropes,
So take a deep breath,
I might give you some hope.
 



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