Ack, I’d be rich if I had those kind of weeds.
“All good things got come to an end,
it’s the same with our wildwood weeds,
One day this feller from Washington came by
and spied ‘em, and turned white as a sheet.
Well they dug and burned and they burned dug
and they killed all of our cute little weeds,
Then they drove away.
We just smiled and waved,
Sittin’ on that sack of seeds.”