Dear boy, you will not hear me speak
With sorrow or with rancor
Of what has paled my rosy cheek
And blasted it with canker
'Twas love, great love that did the deed
Through Nature’s gentle laws
And how should ill effects proceed
From so divine a cause?
Dear boy
Sweet honey comes from bees that sting
As you are well aware
To one adept in reasoning
Whatever pains disease may bring
Are but the tangy seasoning
Of love’s delicious fare
Columbus and his men, they say
Conveyed the virus hither
Whereby my features rot away
And vital powers wither
Yet they had they not traversed the seas
And come infected back
Why, think of all the luxuries
That modern life would lack!
Dear boy
All bitter things conduce to sweet
As this example shows
Without the little spirochete
We’d have no chocolate to eat
Nor would tobacco’s fragrance greet
The European nose
Each nation guards its native land
With cannon and with sentry
Inspectors look for contraband
At every point of entry
Yet nothing can prevent the spread
Of love’s divine disease
It rounds the world from bed to bed
As pretty as you please
Dear boy
Men worship Venus everywhere
As can be plainly seen
The decorations which I bear
Are nobler than the Croix de Guerre
And gained in service of our fair
And universal queen