There in the corner stands the boy, his belt around his shoes his fanny glows a rosy red, as he noisily "boo-hoos!"
His classmates whisper, smile and laugh as he sniffles out his pain, soon everyone in school will know his deep, bare-bottomed shame!
If he hadn't been such a smarty-pants his rump might have been spared such a public dose of punishment before his classmate's stares.
But the boy could not control his tongue. He had to make them giggle. So the teacher said as he took his arm: "Boy, it's time you learned to wiggle!"
And wiggle he did, as the teacher yanked his pants down past his knees; as he hauled that boy right across his lap he squirmed like he had fleas!
But when the ruler began its work across that naked rump, his legs pumped the air in a flutterkick! Oh, how he jiggled and jumped!
But the teacher was not a man to be fooled as he whaled that bad boy's heiney. He whacked and cracked and smacked and thwacked till those lily white buns were shiny!
"OW! Please! I'll behave!" the bad boy howled. The teacher said, "Listen, mister! I'll believe what you say when this bottom of yours is sore and red and blistered!"
He spanked and he spanked and he spanked some more, As that big brat bawled and cried, but nothing he could do would matter a whit till his waggling fanny was fried!
And throughout it all, his classmates watched as that rear went from pink to red. They watched as he kicked and squirmed and squalled, And this is what they said:
"It serves him right for being so smart..." "A spanking is what he needed!" "He's always been mouthy and a bad, bad boy!" (Through it all he sobbed and pleaded).
"Look how his rumpus opens and shuts, you can see his little pink pucker! His nuts and his prick and his red-hot buns! What a silly little sucker!"
With that, they all began to laugh at the bad boy's painful plight: Pants down, rump up, wailing like a child-- It was true he looked a sight!
The ruler rose and fell and rose Whack! WHACK! And the next one harder! It set such a fire in the bad boy's rump it blazed like the face of a martyr
Finally, the tanning came to an end. The teacher rested his arm. "Now, get in the corner, you naughty boy! There, at least, you can do no harm!"
Sniffling, sobbing, and holding on to his throbbing, flaming posterior, he did exactly what he was told displaying his rosy exterior--
those fiery globes--to all his friends, though despite his hindpart's pain. It wasn't just that that made him cry. It was his terrible shame!
Exposed like a punished little boy to the laughing eyes of all, the teacher had surely taught him well, with his crying eyes to the wall!
This is what happens to smart young men who get too big for their britches: A man takes those britches down to his knees And grabs a big bundle of switches,
a paddle, hairbrush, belt or cane, a razorstrop or tawse, and applies it to that naked rump long, hard and without pause!
Till that boy is wailing his frantic plea for the pain in his bottom to stop! But the man keeps spanking till he's deeply sure that the boy understands who's on top!
So take a good look at the sniffling boy, his fanny exposed to view. Take a good look at those fiery buns. Next time, boy, it might be YOU!