I have a question
Maybe two
Maybe a little more than a few
What makes it so offensive to
Keep in touch with your childish side?
Wanting no rules to abide?
Yelling while going down the slide?
Claiming something that isn’t mine
Running around knowing everything will be fine
Cry when I feel like crying
Make up stories mom ain’t buying
Don’t judge me
Cause I won’t share my ice-cream with you
Won’t finish it without spilling a few
Scatter my stuff and disappear from your view
Then, please don’t raise a hue
This world ain’t fair to the grownups and the mature,
I choose to be a kid, be innocent, be pure
Is there no one to tend to your needs and fulfill your whims
Here’s an idea get yourself a jungle-gym.