Birds 'n shit. You know.

New love, flute and fife,
Have you got the new life?
Polite, pretty, pink, and rose,
When she gonna slow?

When you stop smiling silly
Or will it be before that another
Makes her sore.

When will filthy fun
Become boorish and brass?
When will her sass
Be nails on board and tinny?

And her ass cute and fleshy
Sag, and her trash talk be trashy?
Your chin a bit narrow
Become gawky and shallow?

New love, flute and fife,

Have you got the new life?

Polite, pretty, pink, and rose,

When she gonna slow?

When will moments lose their glow?

Fall in line with the rest of time

And scare like minnows in school,

Like fallen trees in the underbrush?

Dodge that line many a time,

But it comes like friends that whine.

And mornings become droll,

And slowly she shortens and widens;

What was once a maiden

Now a troll.

New love, flute and fife,

Have you got the new life?

Polite, pretty, pink, and rose,

When she gonna slow?

When she gonna slow?