7 children

7 children hold up the world
7 children hold up the world
toll the bells and sing a hymn
7 children hold up the world

one of them isn't you-hoo hoo
none of the 7 is me -hee hee
each child is special independently
of anyone else in this motley crew

the first is a boy without an arm or leg
he crawls on his belly
and spins on his head
his stumps are dark black
and his face is bright red
has nothing to eat
but is too proud to beg

the second's a girl without any hair
she turns in the breeze
and hasnt a fear
as she floats like a kite
in the atmosphere
like a kite with no string
cast aside with the chair...

three is a wee lad that nobody knows
digs through the refuse
like a scrawny young mole
watched hungrily
by a murder of crows

next is a small girl that gnaws on a fruit
its rotten to show
just how far she will stoop
for a rind of bad cheese
she would jump through a hoop
and if she had half her face
you would think she was cute

five! five! buried alive
deep underground
with whats left of his life
the dastardly deed
of a wicked housewife
his air's running out
do you think he'll survive?

the sixth's belted in a car bound to crash
she works in a frenzy
to undo the latch
the gas tank is full
like a cheap strike off match
soon will be nothing
but a pile of ash

is the seventh a boy or a girl- who can tell?
it's been beat to a pulp
with a metal tipped belt
but somewhere deep down
past abrasion and welt
is a wellspring of tears
it is trying to quell

7 children hold up the world
outcast freaks both boy and girl
cast your flowers, lend a hand
7 children hold up the world

what is there for us to say
none of them are up to par
each an ugly scar - har har
throw them all away - hey, hey?