Near the far end of town, where the Grickle-grass grows, and a sour wind blows.
Except the old crows, no bird ever sings, where once stood The Truffula Trees.
Ask Him, He knows, for fifteen cents, the Once-ler will tell his yarn.
Bring a nail and a shell, and you will learn, about The Riddle of the Lorax.
Just before The Lorax left, a single word was written: UNLESS.
Curious word, what could it mean, the Once-ler pondered for a long, long time.
Close to the North the Bar-ba-loot played, away to the West the Humming-Fish hummed.
"I am the Lorax I speak for the trees." A curious phrase what does it mean?
Way back in the days, the song of the Swomee-Swans they sang.
Humming-Fish humming while splashing around, but today there is zero a sound.
Except the old crows and the sour breeze through Grickle-grass, and growl of the Thneed.
Despair do not, for there is a sign, the lifted Lorax will return in due time.
Go to the Truffula Trees, West of the Millstone and Swampalomps.
East of the spot, where you leave your Thneed, hides the home of the Lorax.
Bar-ba-loots you may see, beneath the shade of Truffula Trees.
For they have no tongues; "I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees."
This cache is certified Central Jersey
