You mustn't smile when I stroke your hair, not yours to be proud of, this hair isn't yours: If your mother hadn't liked your father, your two grandmothers your two grandfathers, your four great-grandmothers your four great-grandfathers, your eight great-great-grandmothers your eight great-great-grandfathers: well: when you grow up, and you like a boy, and you two grow down, you two have a child: and that child a child, that child a child, child a child, child a great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchild: well, what are you smiling at now? |