The warmer it gets the more clothing I wear,
As the cold grows, I throw away my clothes.
What am I?
In spring I look gay, Covered in a green array
In spring I look gay, Covered in a green array,
The warmer it gets the more clothing I wear,
As the cold grows, I throw away my clothes.
What am I?
The warmer it gets the more clothing I wear,
As the cold grows, I throw away my clothes.
What am I?
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