Silly childhood game - Uncle Wiggily I cower in abject horror Approaching space number 109 Home of the gaunt and haggard shell of the Skeezix
The emaciated figure Harboring the greed of a thousand Invading, thriving, ascaris whittles away The self confidence of young minds Casting doubt that they will Ever reach the finish To see for themselves The segacious Uncle Wiggily
His mission now is complete The arboreal king of misery and woe Skeezix reposes high on a knotty forest crag And the child still tries his best to Stay in the game But with insufficient, no volition Plotted course of demolition Goes through all the motions Musing caveat emptor and A predetermined failure
He draws a card and all his fears come true Advance to 109 That's what you have to do
When Mr. Skeezix becomes Mr. Jones Or you, or me Just think of what it does to wreck A child of two or three They know and feel much more than We will give them credit for And all they want in life from you Is love and nothing more When painful eyes begin to cringe When you walk through the door Remember children are a gift of love Sent from the LordTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
