I guess we ought to tan them more, The way our parents did, before These days of autos, jazz and sin Had put an end to discipline. I guess we ought to take them to The woodshed, like folks used to do. I guess we shouldn't let them go The way we do -- but I don't know. I guess we ought to get severe And take a youngster by the ear And march him out to that old shed And punish him the way I said. Perhaps he'd show us more respect, Perhaps his duties recollect And, when we told him so and so, Would do it then -- but I don't know. I know I got it when a kid For things I didn't and I did. And I suppose it made me good, Like people used to think it would. But, honest though, I can't recall I was much better, after all, Than youngsters now neglected so. Perhaps I was -- but I don't know. |