The flower, the flower; it's blooming. It was oh so afraid of the wind that blew, and its un noticed and now that flower right there is blooming out. "I see no flower here." "No flower should have ever grown here." An old story people told; some believed, some really thought, That their thoughts, weren't wrong but they lived a lie. No one with any sense laid their eyes on this flower, Those who had were only crying for attention they need. But believe when I say, but believe when I say that the, last flower, here has been, blooming before our own eyes.