I’ve always been a little loose
In matters of the head.
But now, Madness, I call a truce –
Bits of me have broken off
And are lying in my bed!
I’m coming off in chunks!
At the ripe old age of five!
A doctor couldn’t save me, punks,
Bring a builder or a bricker
Someone who might keep me alive.
My body’s always had its trouble,
I’ve had whole loads of leaks.
But now I’ll end a mound of rubble,
Bit by bit will leave me nowhere
But a throne among the freaks.
I cannot see a bad that’s worse,
Tell me the tearful truth –
What did I do to win this curse?
And what’s this piece that fell free first?
It looks like … like … a tooth.