They found you behind the house
Among the weeds so tall,
And I told them, "Please be careful--
he is so delicate and so small."
They said they would be gentle,
And treat you with respect,
And give you all you ever needed
What more could I expect?
They made a little house for you,
And a little town,
Then they put you in a matchbox truck
And drove you all around.
Sometimes you would jump away
But they'd always put you back.
Until you stopped jumping altogether
And they thought you'd took a nap.
They laid you on your little back
In a leafy bed,
And said, "Be quiet, Mom, he's sleeping,"
And made a pillow for your head.
You could have died by snake bite,
You could have died from cold,
You cold have sung your dying song
After you'd grown old,
But instead you had a nobler end
That calmed your jumping feet.
You gave up your life for the sake of Play--
A cause so, so bittersweet.
No more fluttering heartbeat,
No more mossy breath.
Most froggies die nameless and forgotten,
A lucky few get loved to death.
