One day, a man, he sat me down,
and told me of the ways,
in which to go about the finding of,
and job that doth well, pays.
But sadly, I, so foolish then,
with pink, lumpy, brain-so tiny,
turned a deaf ear to him, in favor of
an object that was shiny.
How could I live, if I had listened?
It's a dangerous thread to peel.
I wouldn't have to, I suspect,
sing for every meal.