My two decades of existence
Keeps me glued to the classroom furniture
And the male comrades too
And not leaving behind the city lady.
The holidays argue out my freedom
And am let loose into the countryside
The Domicile of Origin.

This company that I need so
Of the human species **
Looking for all but to naught
They all be teen mothers
Trampled roses, Imprisoned souls
I miss the beauty of the flowers
And the noise of ****** laughter
Cruelly held away from me
By these a bit too early mothers.

Nothing seems to get better
For the Light-denied countrysiders.
Will a sight appear in the sky?
Or an angel drop from Heaven
To bring a huge handed message
To grab the fifteen years old woman
Back to the classroom
So that am not a grandfather
At thirty years of age.
Slacken your pace oh teenage woman!