No! I'm the mother fucking Lorax 
I speak for the bees,
These honey quaffing fleas don't got nothing on me!
Please...
I don't want your ragged old thneeds,
I speak for the trees.
I speak to the animals,
The bears,
And the weeds.
And we messed up.
So tear down those factories
The awful smog pumping, billion dollar striptease.
It's times like these
Where nothing seems as it should be,
Where we create to decimate
What took so long to free.
These lungs still breathe
This heart still beats,
See?
See what has happened to the roots of our seed?
I'm the Lorax
And I speak for the breeze,
The purple clouded, belly bearing breeze.
To speak more specifically.
Every time we cut past what we perceive as reality.
The closer we press tightly
Towards the open flame of insanity.
So between you and me...
Hold tight to your novelty
You'll see things will work out eventually.
Trust me.
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