Each man kills the Thing he loves, By each let this be heard: He does it when he pulls the chain, And says "Goodbye" to Turd. The coward does it with a brush, The brave man with his paws, The servant does it with a scowl, And yearns for kinder chores. But one man dared to keep His Dung; To tame what He adored. He taught It how to live, and love: That man was Christ our Lord. And even though His Dumpling dried, And perished shortly after, Its passing was to tears of love, And not a toilet's laughter. Yet each man kills the Thing he loves, And every death proclaims: However much you wipe your bum, A moral stain remains.