He's got secular joy
He's a peculiar boy
But now the luster has gone
The peculiar boy is no more
Who'll save him from being a man? Not me
He's got precious youth
But forsaken, forsooth
So now the shine grows dim
Change tradition for whim
Who'll save him from being a man? Not me
He's got clothes all red
Strewn on a purple bed
But now the red's in his eyes
He's no longer a prize
Who'll save him from being a man? Not me
I'm qualified, not me
I'm insured to that, not me
I didn't kill the cat, not me
I don't know where it's at, not me
Now his skin is slack, he shows a certain lack
Who'll save him from being a man? Not me
So, who'll save him from being a man? Not me
Who'll save him from being a man? Not me
Who'll save him from being a man? Not me