Easy
In spring I look gay, Covered in a green array, The warmer it gets the more clothing I wear, As the cold grows, I throw away my clothes.
Easy
What can't you see, hear or feel, until it’s too late. What shadows love, and shopkeepers hate?
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In spring I look gay, Covered in a green array, The warmer it gets the more clothing I wear, As the cold grows, I throw away my clothes.
What can't you see, hear or feel, until it’s too late. What shadows love, and shopkeepers hate?
