Yea, though I run through the valley of wind, I will not fear.
Your gentle oils protect my tender lips.
Your minty-freshness awakens my nostrils with fresh breezes.
Though I run, gasping for breath, you fail me not.
Oh lip balm, what would I do without you?
Like butter in the frying pan, you are. Greasy and tasty, all at once!
Beeswax, olive oil, or petroleum, The Lord had a good thing in mind with you.
Oh, lip balm. You are beautiful.
May you live long in your tube, away from the heat of summer or my car.