See How The Flowers Cry, Angie   See how they slip so shy, Angie; Tousled little sleepy heads, Like chilly toes From mossy beds, A-sniffing at the sky, Ang. See how they stretch so high, Angie; Fingers dipped in honey dew, Leave sticky trails In tricky blue, As leaves alight and freedom fails, Slivers of life Without a clue, And still they wonder why, Ang. See how the flowers cry, Angie; Shedding eggy mustard tears, Like froth from one of daddy’s beers; D’you see the petals lie, Ang?