Nothing rhymes with Orange
And oh don’t I know it
There’s fruit with that hue
And people who grow it

They live farther south
In a sunnier clime
Growing orange and lemon
Pomelo and lime

They sell them on Sundays
By the railroad out back
Sell them by piece, by pound
Or by sack

They’ll cut them in wedges
To give you a savor
Delight in their sweet,
Juicy, tart and citrusy flavor

So come by and try them
Your sure to exult
If you don’t buy them
It won’t be my fault

Look for Leslie or Luis
Their colleague or friend
They’ve a booth at the Market
Down near the end.

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