In a clean, order place that was much, much too white
Sat a mother and her son, very full of terror and fright
Later that day, the mother traveled, and went to a field
She took her son as well, told him his father wouldn't yield
They sat there for a very long time, contemplating
The answer they had received after so much waiting
Eventually, the boy got up, picked a beautiful flower
But all his mother did was cry, and at it, glower
They drove back home, had dinner and went to sleep
Meanwhile, all the mother did was simply weep
They did this every day, the field, and then the flowers
And again, all the boy saw was his mother's glowers.
The boy, young, an age of four, didn't understand the emotional war.
And the last time he ever saw her smile was when they went to
The field, and after a long, long while, he got up and went over
He picked a flower, and what he said then made her cry
She realized she couldn't hide it anymore with lies, he knew
And what that boy said, that made her cry and smile,
Was that the flower he had picked, after a long, long while
Was Orange, "just like Daddy."