There were dark times, it's true,
when I was sad and was blue,
there seemed to be no sure way out,
no matter how loud I would shout.
I tried food, I tried drugs,
I got beat up by thugs,
but lying bloody and sore,
I knew there had to be more.
It was calling to me,
it was plain, I could see,
something that would make me feel complete,
I jumped out of my seat...
And took a trip down the street,
to a drugstore so sweet,
it was indeed not a tease,
they carried my wonderful savoir -- Febreze.
But the ingenious Scentstories was more than a fad,
more than a crappy old scent wrapped in a brown paper bag.
I could explore a mountain trail,
or wander barefoot on a shore,
I could stroll through a garden,
or even ask for more.
If I was craving scents of vanilla,
or in my hammock on my back,
Febreze was there right for me,
picking up the slack.
So I took home my new plaything,
placed it softly on the floor,
plugged it in and sat back,
to enjoy this brand-new lore.
Then I saw that Shania Twain was involved.
I took it back right away.
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