Children who slap and who spit and who bite
Are the same ones who play and who laugh and fly kites
A fellow so giggly might lift up his mate
While secretly planning his down-turning fate
The good boy at home with his mother and dad
Throws smirks and red legos at ‘nother young lad
Her aunt says she’s perfect in every which way
But teacher begs different and says she can’t stay
Hands on the hips and stomps o’ a plenty
Thinking they’ve grown to an age such as twenty
Then nighttime falls dark and a nightmare is wild
Where did that arrogance go, my dear child
