You were so tall and beautiful,
with a growth spurt so divine,
you were flowering before I knew it,
with fruit like the mammon vine.

Orbs grew so fast and many,
the fruit of your womb large,
it was if you were mine alone,
floating on the Nile in a barge.

Oh, Papaya, why you done me wrong?
Left me last December before,
I could write this song.

You fought the cold so bravely,
as I prayed to keep old winter away,
but global warming betrayed me,
polar vortex swooped down this way.

One day you were green and beautiful,
the next you were dead and gone.
Why did you go off and leave me,
with all that beautiful fruit still on?

Oh, Papaya, why you done me wrong?
Left me last December before,
I could write this song.

For you I long, I long,
but you are dead and gone,
gone, gone, gone.