Tell me now, without a frown. What grows up while growing down?

Even though we sing that its days are over, Every one has its day. Maybe that’s why they’re so beloved A bestie always up for a nap, drive, or play.

Part of the seven sins of man, sadly, I’m the one we glorify the most; If a squirrel stores nuts for winter, it’s the norm, but if it took them all, we’d ask questions; Why not apply this to man, this trait keeps them with the upper hand;

I'm made of rope or woven thread, without a floor, I'm still a bed. I'm a bridge between two trees, a see-through swaying breeze.

In the velvet sky, a glowing art, A cosmic map, each star a part. Stories told through stars in flight, A timeless dance in the night.