For greener pastures once Connie had sought
On the other side of the hill.
She observed on arriving, the grass there had died
With the air hanging fetid and still

The grass, she then heard, was much greener yet
On the side of a far distant mountain
Where life was all peace and serenity
On this she was fervently counting

Happiness there was again what she sought
But alas, she felt sad and let down
One more time disappointment she faced
Here,too, was grass withered and brown

So back whence she started then Connie returned
But there on arrival she found
That while she was seeking that richer green grass
Her belongings had burned to the ground

She’s always been looking, but never has found
Happiness , and she never will
By eternally seeking that fresher green grass
In a valley just over the hill.