Good little chaps
Free of pickle, mingle and giggle
Mill around all legs
And in the beach, your pops bury
Yell, sing and make merry
Cry and to soothing charm be deaf
Each sweet toy, make them yours
You are right on the beam
Good little chaps
Carefree, yell and chill the air
Make your monkeyshine and go to bed
You are right on the beam-
chaos being order of the day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem