When I was a delightful dewdrop on a leaf
The crimson sun would dry me.
When I was a colorful little fish new to this world
The wicked cat would eye me.
When I was an imprint on sand
The wind would blow me.
When I was a tear trickling down a sad face
The hand would wipe me.
When I used to preach them
They would start to fight me.
When I wanted to hide
Alas! They would still find me.
