I was once a merry urchin—curly-headed I was called,
And I laughed at good old people when I saw them going bald;
But it's not a proper subject to be lightly joked about,
For it's dreadful to discover that your roof is wearing out!
I remember asking Uncle—in my innocent surprise—
How he liked his head made use of as a Skating Rink by flies;
But although their dread intrusion I shall manfully resist,
I'm afraid they'll soon have got another Rink upon their list.
When invited to a party I'm invariably late,
For I waste the time in efforts to conceal my peeping pate—