If Only

There was a young lady called Epi

Who thought herself not very happy

If only she knew

It would be worse when she grew

She’d count herself already peppy

There was a young lad called Joe

Who felt all the time very low

If only he’d see

He was already free

He’d be light, with an everyday glow

There was a fine babe called Ama

Who liked to make scenes just for drama

If only she could feel

Just the odd even keel

She’d be nice, so no need for: “Your Mama!”

There was a posh fella called Bob

Who fancied himself a snob

If only his crew,

In his crap, let him stew

He’d never have been such a nob

There was an old woman called Rosie

My goodness was she ever so nosy

If only she’d stay

Out of everyone’s way

She’d refrain from a hell of baloney

There was an old man called Lester

Who for years let his rage really fester

If only he’d stopped

Before his ticker just popped

He’d be here—not six feet under in Gloucester