Oh, Tui, I don't know what else to do for you.
Mr. Mushnik and Audrey, they just met you, but I've been going through this with you
for weeks.
Grow and wilt, spurt and flop, are you sickly little plant, or are you just plain stubborn?
What is it you want?
What is it you need?
I've given you sunshine, I've given you dirt.
You've given me nothing, but heartache and hurt.
I'm begging you sweetly, I'm down on my knees, oh please, grow for me.
I've given you plant food, and water to sip.
I've given you pot ash, you've given me zip.
Oh God, how I missed you, oh pod, how you tease.
Now please, grow for me.
I've given you southern exposure to get you to thrive.
I've pinched you back hard like I'm supposed to, you're barely alive.
I've tried you at levels of moisture from desert to mud.
I've given you grow lights and mineral supplements, what do you want from me, blood?
Ow, damn rose, damn thorns, clumsy me.
Hey Tui, look what I...
Hey, you opened up!
I wonder what made you do that?
I think I know what made you do that.
Well, I guess a few drops couldn't hurt.
Long as you don't make a habit out of it or anything.
I've given you sunlight, I've given you rain.
Looks like you're not happy, lest I open a vein.
I'll give you a few drops, if that'll appease.
Now please, oh please, grow for me.
