Back in my youth,
The King saw a deuce
Dropped by one Signor Bruce.
His majesty said,
"Bruce, you may poop
but you knew,
—didn't you?—
that paid as you are,
quite so much!
quite a lot!
you're expected to empty
your own chamber pot!"
Bruce said,
"I know that, I know,
your majesty's so
knowledgeable.
I knew that, I've known
that I'd reap what I'd sown,
with my chamber pot full
in the sight of the Crown
—from dust we come,
to dust we go—
and the shit that I'm in
is the shit that I've grown.
Echo, echo,
thus says the earth.
Let go, Let go
what was it worth?
To relive myself freely
in laughter and mirth?
To be pooping and peeing
in the barracks on Thursday?
I knew it! I knew!
Like the rest of you
that the Lord comes by
to see if it's true,
at first light in the sky
on the fifth day of June,
that every soldier, (everyguy!)
is sitting perfect-pretty-beside
the pristine-princely-perfect designs
of the poopy pot for his little behind.
You know what I think, Signor King,
of this stink?
You know what I want you to say,
and to think?
I'd have you say,
'Heavens, Young Bruce, Signor Bruce,
what a man!
Like any—he's pooped in the
pooping pan!
What a job! What a joyful, bodacious
occasion!
How proud he must be!
How spotless his aim is!
What horror! We'd, abhor
if he'd gone for the floor,
if he'd dumped out the window
or pissed on the door.
We'd be livid, SO livid
if he'd done his business
on the mantelpiece,
foyer steps, carpet, or kitchens!
But the pot!
That's where it's in?
He's listened! He's listened!
He's complied with our wishes,
and crapped RIGHT in the dish
that's set aside for this end.
And to empty this?
Highness?
To swirl it, and swish it?
To pour it all OUT?
Let it swim with the fishes?
How—fecaling ridiculous!
(if you'll excuse my English)
what we need is a sewage
apparatus.'"
The King said, "he's right...
as a matter of fact.
Marshall!"
"Yes?"
"Gibbet the brat.
Execute Bruce
(who spoke too freely)
but fit each young soldier
with a personal loo,
immediately."
And so the King went bankrupt
putting flush toilets under every bed
(it was only his son who got the finances correct,
and put the toilets in the bathroom instead).
Bruce, by the by,
'spite his wails, 'spite his cries
was fed to the crows
of the warm, yellow sky.
