(Music) ♫ My age is three hundred ♫ ♫ and seventy-two ♫ ♫ I think with the deepest regret ♫ ♫ How I used to pick up and voraciously chew ♫ ♫ the dear little boys that I met ♫ ♫ I've eaten them raw in their holiday suits, ♫ ♫ Eaten them curried with rice, ♫ ♫ I've eaten them baked in their jackets and boots, ♫ ♫ And found them exceedingly nice. ♫ ♫ But now that my jaws are too weak for such fare, ♫ ♫ I think it's increasingly rude ♫ ♫ To do such a thing when I'm quite well aware ♫ ♫ Little boys do not like being chewed. ♫ ♫ Little boys do not like being chewed. ♫ (Music)