My uncle has these magic sticks

He tells me they make clouds

I tell all my friends and whomever I meet

It makes me feel so proud

He just puts the sticks up to his lips

Breathes them in and then breathes out

And before my eyes up to the skies

White puffs start to fly about

He’s my hero, I tell him, he’s my hero!

As I give him a kiss

I’m just so lucky! For who else’s uncle

Can do something amazing like this?

 

My uncle has these magic sticks

He told me they make clouds

I told all my friends and whomever I met

It made me feel so proud

But my mum tells me that these magic sticks

Have made my uncle very sick

Then she tells me that making clouds

Is not something that should make me proud

She tells me its actually a silly thing

For somebody, anybody to do

And that my uncle tried to make so many

His lungs turned black, from blue.

 

My uncle had these magic sticks

And they made him very ill.

So now I tell,

All my friends,

And whomever I meet,

That making clouds can kill.

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