Playing Tag Up with your rug The tree house is under attack, no time for a snack. Out of my cul-de-sac, I like to be alone Sometimes, green vines on the house wall, shall we start small, and grow, supporting each other, beaver, wombat, and otter, Come out and fight, With all your might, What a glorious sight! And then, when the day is over, and I may fall in my bed, to dreams one more, about that time, mild, when I was a child.