I wish I could've been a frog,
Tiny, small, and keen.
To be a tadpole, oh how great-
You'd always end up clean.
Hopping from one lily pad to the next,
Eating flies and bugs,
Ribbet, ribbet, croak, croak,
With chins out, they look like thugs.
Hidden deep within the marsh
They hide from all that's there.
Shelter, food, some special one,
For their lack they show not that they care.
Oh, to be that tiny frog,
To sing so deep and sound.
My voice will not carry such as that,
It can only get so loud.
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