Refree was harshly dragged by her father, she wanted to do this, but she had to pay the consequences.

Dry lightning cracks across the skies.

He told her that she had the right to shut her mouth or this would be harder on her.

She didn't care.

She would keep yelling.

She. Was. Popple. Now.

Those stormclouds gather in her eyes.

The skies were gray, as her father shoved her out of the village limits. A duffel bag hit her square in the chest.

"Best of luck."

He was gone.

Her daddy was a mean ol' mister,

She..no He stood up, and held the bag.

He gave a smile, and walked away as the thunder rumbled.

His mother would be proud of him.

Mama was an angel in the ground.

He could be out of here, before the weather went bad.

Then he was on his own.

The weatherman called for a twister,

He grinned, and muttered.

"See ya never, see?"

She prayed "Blow it down"

He scrounged enough money for something to eat, had a night in the stars, and in the morning, stowed away on a plane to BeanBean Kingdom.

There's not enough rain in Oklahoma, to wash the sin out of that house.

He grinned, at his new rookie.

Chuckola Reserve here comes Popple.

There's not enough wind in Oklahoma to rip the nails out of the past,

He was fine on his own.

He didn't need parents.

He didn't need a friend.

He didn't need a girlfriend.

Shatter every window, 'till it's all blown away!

He was approached, by a man in black and gray attire.

"You look lonely, my flower. Mind telling what's the matter?"

Every brick, Every Board, Every slamming door blown away!

Well, maybe one person.

Clover was a sweet guy,

He helped Popple with everything, and was a beast at pulling heists.

'Til there's nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday!

He was just fine.

Every tear soaked whiskey memory blown away!

Not fine.

Not fine.

Oh sweet grambi, I am not fine.

Popple's shirt was torn in two spots as he slammed out of an old apartment building, falling into the snow.

Snow.

Night.

Mind racing, he got to his feet and jammed a pole into the door.

She heard the sirens screaming out,

He was going to be number 14.

Oh grambi,

He ran as fast as he could, tears running down his face.

Her daddy passed out on the couch.

He could hear Clover swearing to him that he would find her, and plant his flower in the ground.

She locked herself in the cellar,

He slammed his back on the side of a movie theater, and took deep breathes. He drew his legs to his chest, and felt the snow pelt him.

Listened to the screaming of the wind,

He couldn't breathe,

He couldn't find it in him.

Some people call it taking shelter.

He didn't acknowledge the cold.

Actually, he felt way too warm.

She called it sweet revenge,

He felt sick,

He retched to the side of him, but nothing came out.

Shatter every window, 'Till it's all blown away!

He laid to the side, and groaned.

He felt like all he's been doing the past few weeks is cry and groan.

Soon, a piercing cold hit him, and he was unconscious.

Every brick, every board, Every slamming door, blown away!

He came to, in an unfamiliar place.

Dark walls surrounded him.

Oh grambi..

Grambi.

He found me.

'Till there's nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday,

When the door opened, his heart dropped, and he screamed.

Every tear soaked whiskey memory blown away!

"Whoa, lad! It's okay!" A burly man came in, as he stared at him, terrified.

He held in his hand, not a kitchen knife...but a bowl of soup.

There's not enough rain in Oklahoma to wash the sins out of that house.

Popple took it, and looked at him.

Deep red hair, burly red beard, sweet eyes.

This will be Clover all over again,

He sank back, scared.

There's not enough wind in Oklahoma, to rip the nails out of the past,

The man frowned. "Yeah, I get it. You must be very scared now, we found ya in te snow, freezing. Must be pretty creepy to wake up with ol' Chunks as the first ting ya see."

The man guffawed, and Popple, to please him, gave a tiny laugh.

Shatter every window, 'till it's all blown away!

He tipped his finger on the soup. "It's nice and hot. Fawful made it, so it's has to be good. Nassy wouldn't let me have any."

Popple, as he took a tentative sip, realized how hollow his stomach was.

Every brick, Every Board, Every Slamming door, blown away!

The man smiled at him, as he gulped down the soup.

"You eat like you haven't eaten in weeks." He lowered the bowl, and wiped his face.

"I..haven't, thanks." He handed the bowl over.

'Till there's nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday.

The man looked at him, and was confused.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"...n-no."

He stood up, and grabbed the bowl.

"I'll be back, alright lad?"

He nodded.

Every tear stained whiskey memory blown away!