Young By Drusy All curled up and furled up Warm under white blankets I’m waiting, I’m waiting, I’m free! What’s that? Oh, the sun. And there? That’s the grass. And me? I’m the leaves on a tree? It’s so warm, and the wind … It is wind, am I right? It plays with me – so slightly, a dance. Who’d have thought that outside of my small little shell, Such a world was just waiting by chance.