Splendor on the grass

Bud, I'm afraid. Oh, Bud... don't, Bud.
No, mom! I'm not spoiled! I'm not spoiled mom! I'm just as fresh and virginal like the day I was born, mom!
My pride? My pride? I don't want my pride!
Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendor in the grass, glory in the flower, we will grieve not; rather find strength in what remains behind.

[aL]