Everyday they stand no chance
Unsuspecting, no askance
After school it's all the same
I pick them every single day

Some days it's one
Sometimes it's two
Possibly even three
And there's nothing you can do

It's the buttercup genocide
And they can't hide
Cos they're just waiting
Waiting to die

I pass them as I walk on home
And grab a few on the way
They're so shiny and yellow
And now on my counter they lay

They whither away and die
As the days go by
It's not my fault
They're so pretty

It's the buttercup genocide
They're just living to die
I'll pick them in ones and twos
And give them to you