Greet me ice queen, in sp-ite
Of favors once sung by ravers
R-eared on newsboys, learned in
H-ungarian by Greek historians
Hearing i-s an art, for the lyric impaired computer dignitaires
Post a new v-erse you
Shake-spearean curse
~Chorus~
And so the heritage bough will grow
(3X)
And so the heritage bough will gr-ow
We will gr-ow
We will b-e gr-own
We will gr-ow
Don’t be a bear, decline
Measures put forth in ledgers
M-eek by design, fr-om refineries, unnamed for holidays
Cup a leaf in part, hoods of redwoods, carve me among the pawns
Well meaning sorts give ears t-o discord
~Chorus~
You sleep instead tonight
While wolves take the arts of displeasure
What once was fair and divine
You misplaced with the parts of a, devil who made you unfaithful
And so the heritage bough will gr-ow
We will gr-ow
We will b-e gr-own
(4X)
Secretly, the cups of children
Hanged as wreaths, coined as beasts, row in tandem, nicer hours, adorned with sour, looks and poses, keeping march, frame and arch, we too are hunted, harmed by swarms, but charmed by froggers, north by fours, pinched by thorns, through moors and heather, chimney dust, sprinkles the Dutch, disheartened sweepers, caked with snow, ice it spreads, while longing lingers
