Faster Dad Faster

(The shoulder-carrier's revenge)

Faster Dad faster,

The little one cried,

To his wretched dad with the acne.

Faster Dad, gee up,

Hurry on, me up,

We must be home,

In time for our tea up.

Poor Dad persisted

This pitiless toil

For his sly ungrateful offspring.

Blast, curse and blow it,

Hold on and stow it.

He wished he could rip off,

His son's head and throw it.

Faster Dad faster,

The little one shouted.

His father struggled on manfully.

Hurry Dad, do Dad,

Am I worrying you Dad?

Here, was that my head

You ripped off and threw Dad?


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