One to ten, mommies boy,

Eleven to fourteen, daddy a toy,

Fourteen and above,

Nothing fits like a glove,

Sowing then are they their hormonal oats..

No more fishing with dad on the boat,

Spending long periods in the bathroom quite remote,

Constructing around themselves an emotional moat,

Wearing the same clothes as does everyone else, nothing of note..

Trying to fit in, changing styles daily,

Played all his young life a ukulele ,

Switched to a head banging guitar,

Behavior beyond that of the bizarre..

We have all gone through it,

parents thinking of murder to commit,

At the dinner table they start to spit,

Wont be long before dad puts an end to all this shit..