Here I grow the common weed That likes to do a kindly deed. For if a nettle, green and sly Stings you when you’re passing by Never mind just hunt for me And see how comforting I’ll be Pluck my leaves, so cool and fresh, press them on your burning flesh Where the nettle stung you and I’ll cool and heal your burning hand
My name is Dock, the common weed That likes to do a kindly deed.
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