Would you play a game
With your paw. . .shoot a seven?
Right now it’s so tame
You could paw it toward heaven.
Right now, not long. . .
Could be so strong
If you’d coax it right along. . .
Reared to seven.

Would you scold my gland
With your paw—squeeze it seven?
Would you help me stand
With your paw up toward heaven?!
You’d make my day
If you would play
With it until I make “whey”. . .
Reared-up seven.

Nice, you swing it ’round,
Nice, you’ve wrenched it free,
Nice, you shake that part.
I am begging, “Please,
Bend and squeeze!!”

Beyond the four
There’s three or more
When you’ll chafe me till near sore—
Rears up seven.

Wood’s had played the game
With your paw—it was heaven.
Wood reverts to tame
Again, paw it to seven.
Once more made strong,
Your grip a tong.
Cuffed, you know, I won’t be long—
Reared to jett’son.