They grump when I jump on the bed, so I don't.
I would if I could but I can't, so I won't.
They frown when I knock people down, so I don't.
I would if I could but I can't, so I won't.
They smite when I hit or I bite, so I don't.
I would if I could but I can't, so I won't.
I would if I could, would if I could, would if I could but I can't.
They gripe when I swipe anything, anywhere.
I would if I could but I can't, it's not fair.
They faint when I paint on the wall or the door.
I would if I could but I can't, any more.
They're cross when I toss lima beans round the room.
I would if I could but they low-er the boom.
I would if I could, would if I could, would if I could but I can't.
I am trying to figure out
What the world's okay with.
What I can and cannot get away with.
They flip when I strip in the park, which I've done.
I would if I could but I can't, but it's fun.
They yell when I tell Mama's age, though it's true.
I would if I could but I can't, 32.
They scowl and they growl and they puff and they pant
With the yes and the no and the shall and the shan't.
But I know down below as they rave and they rant,
They would if they could, would if they could,
Would if they could but they can't.
