Young Man, I would ask, “just what is your age?”
For your actions are very disturbing.”
Must you spit in the street, where gentle folks feet
Find your nastiness very perturbing.
Young Man, I would ask, “can’t you speak without swearing?”
For clearly you’re friends are moronic
Would your Mum ever know, that in public you show
Such words that are really quite chronic.
Young Man, I would ask, “just what is that noise?”
That your radio blares to the street
The vibration is such, it is far too much
We can’t stand that horrid loud beat.
Young Man, I would ask, “about your beer can?”
Why you need to just throw it down
Beer cans of tin, are best put in a bin
Not left to just litter the ground.
Young Man, I would ask “what are those blue marks
That cover your neck and your arms?”
C.U. in hell, is a poor way to spell
Your ambitious slovenly charms.
Young Man, I would ask, “will you ever mature?”
Conscription would fill up your days
Or a lengthy spell in a harsh prison cell
Would free us of your ignorant ways.