Go teach your papas to **** eggs
tell your mamas where babies come from
for if they had told you how the winds blows
you won't sing tuneless songs or copy ostriches
for that big bird hides by burying its head in sands

Tell a looker one and one is twenty-four
and it is so because you know its just so possible
garb a barb and spit in the wind you defer gravity
folklore and lies banter in the muds of urban myths
the spirit-leveler of the lost orphans in parental loses

Been there and seen the lessons taught
while the moves to commotions via in motion aghast
save your references for that cheetar's been and gone
and basement dormitory rearing traumatizes puppies
the incessant barking reflects the unwell unhappy pups

Papas never ****** eggs as granny did
mamas had babies before they knew what canal was
now the dogs run ravage seeking handlers and grub
fleas infected and cosy mange in city suits and genes
I hear poor dogs  bawling, barking and shrieking in angst
But I do not lay with dogs,