Something to think about.

Sing loudly.

Repeat the last line of each verse.

* * *

My dog is old now (fifteen years), his eyes are nearly blind.

Yet though his hips and joints are stiff, he doesn’t seem to mind.

He’s not in pain, he eats his food, he persecutes the cat;

So we’re still pleased to have him round, except for one sad fact . . . .

He drops bowel actions randomly, he does them anywhere,

In carport, rumpus room or lounge, no longer does he care.

The moment that the urge comes on, he does one on the spot;

He cares not, be the time or place appropriate or not . . . .

In this respect he’s something like young people and their ways;

Their habits with regard to sex and how it’s done today.

Like Dog, they don’t repress themselves, they do it anytime:

In couples, groups, same-sex or straight, without reason or rhyme . . . .

They spread embarrassing disease, it’s not mysterious.

The body fluids they love to share contain a lot of pus.

The germs they catch on Friday night from Fanny or from Dick,

They give to someone else next day — soon all their friends are sick . . . .

All kinds of sins God will forgive, including unwed sex.

He wants us to enjoy his love in this world and the next.

But first we must be penitent, abandoning our faults:

This is for all, both young and old, the only hope we’ve got . . . .