by Dean Cameron Reynolds
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- Gather 'round children, it's time that you heard,
What happens when a bee meets a nice bird!
Mummy and Daddy might have told you a tale,
Of what happens when a lady spots a nice male!
About how love brings them together and babies arrive,
About how the seed in Mummy's tummy's alive.
About backache and pregnancy and weird culinary cravings,
But these are LIES my children!!! Lunatical Ravings!
Your parents and teachers have LIED from day one!
But Uncle Dean has arrived to correct this Great Wrong,
So sit back and relax and save your applause till the end,
As we ride on the truth 'round an educational bend,
These stories about tummies and seeds are just lies!
The Truth will amaze and boggle your eyes,
Babies aren't born due to the birds and the bees,
They're assembled in Dirty Big Grey Factories!
I've seen it!!! It's true!!! Believe me you must!
I have pictures of the factories all covered in rust!
In this Day and Age in factories everything's built,
Computers, cars, lollipops, and yes even your stilt!
It's cheaper and quicker to build them in Bulk,
Do not be upset young children, do not attempt to Sulk!
Commerce and Trade don't have time for young tears,
So be quiet before the General Manager clouts all your ears!
These Monstrous Factories are staffed on the Moon,
And the babies are ferried to Earth by balloon,
If you order in bulk there's discounts to be had,
(That's why the parents of triplets ALWAYS look glad!)
The parts are all built in different locations,
And are ferried to a Great Grand Central Station!
The brains are all British, and the noses from Mars,
And the toes from a Strange Land beyond the bright stars,
The bones are Jamaican, and the eyes from Japan,
(Where they have a flair for fine detail as I understand,)
And the spleens and the tummies and the ribs are all made,
In a Secret Part of the Florida Everglade!
These Wobbly Pink Bits are all packaged in crates,
And couriered to the Moon thanks to great Postal Rates!
On arrival they're listed, weighed and examined,
And the Defective Parts quite hastily binned!
The parts are Good Quality, but perfect they're not,
That's why grown-ups need Spectacles, Hearing-Aids and Whatnot!
So if you can, then stay young! Wise Children who hear,
There's nothing fun about a hearing-aid stuck in your ear!
On the Production Line are all of the bits brought there,
And the process of Assembly proceeds with Great Flair!
Heads are screwed on, and Arms are popped in,
Toenails glued on and teeth set to grin,
These babies are Stylish! They're Trendsetting Tots!
(That's why some third-world families tend to have lots)
They're the Ultimate Fashion Accessory today!
On the Catwalks of Paris these Babies do play!
The Marketing Department investigates New Styles,
That attracts our interest, our Money and smiles,
Just like cars the babies come in all Colours and Shades,
And Talents and Abilities of various grades!
A Chinese Chopin, an Ethiopian Blake,
All varieties and talents of babies they make!
These babies are trundled into crates meant for Earth,
Where the Stockbrokers hawk them for all that their worth!
Bad Babies go cheap, but Good Girls cost a lot.
Messy babies tend to be Thrown Out with the cot!
A Birth Cert's a guarantee from the Factory on the Moon,
That if your baby is Bad it will be Replaced SOON!
So for Heaven's Sake children be good while you can!
Or your parent's will Refund you and get a nice tan,
On the Island Cruise from the money they get,
For Refunding their baby, their Messy House Pet!
So be Good to you Parents, don't let them Suspect,
That I've told you the Truth and their lies are all Wrecked,
They're embarrassed to tell you how Little they Spent,
How you only cost 24 Dollars One Cent!
So Behave! They could quite easily get a New Tot!
Who composes Great Symphonies and never talks Rot!
Or;
For your own Safety Sake, best go Destroy your Birth Cert,
Without that Guarantee you can treat your parents like Dirt!
- Gather 'round children, it's time that you heard,
