I am transplanted from fulsome gardens,
Log pavilions, industrial revolutions,
Rocket riders to salt mines.
beneath green Lake Erie waves
Now I live in this orphanage,
Not assisted, neither fostered nor forlorn,
In no way wayward, and no one’s ward.
I am transplanted from fulsome gardens,
Log pavilions, industrial revolutions,
Rocket riders to salt mines.
beneath green Lake Erie waves
Now I live in this orphanage,
Not assisted, neither fostered nor forlorn,
In no way wayward, and no one’s ward.