I've never actually thought about the flowers—
Bestrewed through my backyard,
'Cause I'm always too busy,
Smelling your own scent.

So I gallivant around the back,
To which it gives me some sort of ebullience—
But a mild one,
With that serene essence.

I've never actually thought about its pungency,
Clashing with your strong and swooning scent
Guess when you're not around, I will still remain sober;
I'll always wake up and smell the flowers!