I'll sing you a poem of a silly young king Who played with the world at the end of a string, But he only loved one single thing— And that was just a peanut-butter sandwich.

His scepter and his royal gowns, His regal throne and golden crowns Were brown and sticky from the mounds And drippings from each peanut-butter sandwich.

His subjects all were silly fools For he had passed a royal rule That all that they could learn in school Was how to make a peanut-butter sandwich.