You see: fruits grow on trees with ease,
And tea leaves cling to every branch.
Serp up some hot fruit water, please,
With sounds our ancestors would enhance.
But ancestors toiled, bent their backs,
Over fields in times so tight.
We drink Serp teas, nothing it lacks,
With tapioca pearls in sight.
All blessings come to us by chance,
No agricultural toil required.
We serp through straws, our taste buds dance,
With fruit and berry blends inspired.
