Prettyboy

Whose a pretty boy
sitting on the sty
Whose a pretty boy
with wildness in the eye
Climbing up the tree
spilling grannies tea
whose a pretty boy
is it you and me?

When we were a boy
they crowded round us then
and told us of their joy
that we could use a pen
but then the spell did break
when paper we did burn
and tied us to the stake
so that we would learn

But whose a pretty boy
after seven years in jail
and mommy comes to call
and empty out our pail

We did not know our strength
we didn't know our joy
so seven years our leangth
for being a pretty boy.