“Do you have a party?
Do you have bread?
Do you have a lullaby?”
Crimson flower said.
“Why are you asking?
Party cake is eating.
Not to do with bread.
Sleepy head is feeling.
Your eyes are now red.
Hearty blood is beating.
Close your eyes in bed.
All is good as resting.
Fair tales being read.
Earth is resting, rolling.
Watch the sun’s head.
Our ceiling could be sleeping.”
Greatest mother said.
What is it with bread? 
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