When I was young, I used to think
That water came from the kitchen sink.
But now I’m older, and I know,
That water comes from rain and snow.
It stays there, waiting, in the sky,
In clouds above our world so high.
And when it falls, it flows along,
And splashes out a watery song,
As each raindrop is joined by more
And rushes to the ocean shore,
Or to a lake, a brook, a stream,
From which it rises, just like steam.
But while it’s down here
What do you think?
Some DOES go to the
kitchen sink!