Your Cold Feet:

If I was a flower
A flower was me,
You do what you do
And you are a bee.

I'm on the ground
You're in the air,
So how do you know
That I am down there.

Is it the way I smell
That turns your head,
Or maybe my colors
Did it for you instead.

With your big ole eyes
I'm sure that you see,
Both of your cold feet
Walking all over me.

So the next time
You decide to land,
Make sure you know
Just where you stand.

And if you pick me
Cause my pollen rocks,
Make sure your cold feet
Are wearing some socks.

And if for any reason
Your not down with that,
I hope that you step
On a Venus Flytrap.