I

Pink, chubby, much-loved infant,

you lie there, mewling and puking.

Still, it won't be long now before:

II

The best schoolboy days

are when you lie there in the heather,

dreaming dreams of the days to come.

And after this, the best days

are when you dream of the days that have been.

III

Oh, to lie there in her arms;

to feel her soft, warm breasts

easing into your anger.

As a lover you'll do anything for this.

IV

Now you've got the lie of the land,

you've got it made.

Just wait, soldier.

You'll conquer all;

you'll show them.

V

In the search for truth

you sometimes have to tell a lie.

So, the more lies you tell,

the more you should be admired.

Justice should be done.

VI

I cannot tell a lie, Pantaloon.

Nobody is charmed by your hairy ears,

your public farts, or your picking of nose at table.

As you like it it may be,

but no one else does.

VII

And now you're in the last days of your second childhood.

You lie there, mewling and puking.

Still, it won't be long now before-