Photos don't show what the Coco knows,
and the green grass will not tell a soul.
The glow in the fire lends to us a clue:
where once there was nothing,
here is something warm.
But when the hamhock went begging
was when Coco really started to shine.
From our haylined trench we waited
from dispatch to dispatch from the Coco front.
And Coco's intelligence arrived in code:
this is tasty. This is warm.
This is something else
Coco would like for you to know.