Life whistles serenely.
What am I saying?
I’ve got an apple in my hand and a juicy chunk in my mouth.
I wish I had an apple tree with apple seeds,
And that apple seeds were a currency.

What am I saying?

My hand sweats when you hold it.
I wish true love were buyable, unexpirable,
The kind we can take for granted,
And that apple seeds were a currency.

Do you hear me laughing?

I think I used to say the same.
I wish our smiles cost a penny each,
You’d die poor, I’m sure,
But if apple seeds were a currency,
And true love were buyable, unexpirable,
I’d marry you for free.

Do you get what this means?

Hold my pinky for a while.
I wish this rain could melt us like sugar,
And that the Earth were diabetic,
You’d be wrapped around my pinky as we sank,
We would kill and die, penniless and poor,
And true love would still not be buyable, unexpirable,
And apple seeds… who’s to say?