Cold Capital

I'm sorry about your sweater.

the weather is, a bit torn.

and wouldn't you say auntie's got a fix?

her lost crops—the corn.

now go to the city, and make the big bills flow.

For capital and country, young kids get the munchies.

I think we've gained some weight, and lost what it meant.

i stole the pattern off the Internet. It wasn't even hand made.

I'm sorry about your sweater—I couldn't go for better.