THE LAST DANDELION

The last dandelion's in Michigan, I'll have to run 500 miles, My body's not what it used to be, but I'm still going to try. You see my baby's dying of cancer, right now she's stuck in bed, I asked her for her last wish, and then this is what she said: She said "I spent my whole life indoors, I spent it doing work, I didn't smell the flowers and I never played any sports, If I could go back in time, then I would change how I lived, but it's too late to do that now, so instead here's my last wish: I want to see a dandelion, I want to hold it in my hand, I want to blow away its fluff, and to never see it land." So now I'm off to Michigan, I'm running around the world, and I won't be coming back again, 'til I've got that flower for my girl. Because she wants to see a dandelion, so she can blow away its fluff, It's something she never did, and now her time is almost up. "Sweetheart? I've got that dandelion for you."