Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Bob Holt
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
Dr. Seuss
At the far end of town
Where the Grickle-grass grows
And the wind smells slow and sour when it blows
And no birds ever sing excepting old crows
Is the Street of the Lifted Lorax
Grickle-grass, Grickle-grass
Street of the Lifted Lorax
Grickle-grass, Grickle-grass
Somebody lifted the Lorax away