The breeze, golden, sky high sits the breeze,
The corn, brown, tinted with yellow, grows tall does the corn,
The chair, oaken cream, so low sits the chair,
The ribbon, Pink, stirred in with black, lies still does the ribbon,

I'm begging you Josie, come inside!
Its lunch time, says Papa, his voice of chaos,
Please won't you Papa, push me on my swing!
Its so pretty out here, says Josie, her voice of sugar,

Please Josie, come inside! I'm off to work in a minute, and your Mama's desperate for you to have a nap,
I'm begging you Papa, I'm almost seven, I don't need a nap and you can't go to work on a Sunday,
I'm begging you Papa,

Josie No come inside! Your tiring me with this chatter, come inside!
I have to cook lunch, please just come,
You don't care Papa! You only want to be rich,
Please Papa I'm begging you!

The breeze, golden, sky high sits the breeze,
The corn, brown, tinted with yellow, grows tall does the corn,
The chair, oaken cream, so low sits the chair,
The ribbon, Pink, stirred in with black, lies still does the ribbon,

Papa! Come back!
I'll do anything!
I'm begging you Papa!
COME INSIDE!

Inside the oak cottage, Papa sat snoring, No sign of lunch, no sign of work,
Josie left the house and ran down the lane,
When her Papa woke up, His daughter was gone.

He grabbed his coat, and ran down the lane to were young Josie lay,
Here life left behind,
Dead on the ground,
Please no! Called her Papa, tears streaming,
For all he could think were his daughters last words,
I'm begging you Papa!


-KittyKat