There once was sung a little tune one lazy summer afternoon. A harmless jest, a simple rhyme—forgotten full by suppertime. The king heard half a single verse, declared it vile, obscene, perverse! “Erase this rubbish! Right this wrong! And most of all—DO NOT SING THIS SONG!” Do not sing this song! Do not sing this song! The king has said it's very wrong, so DO NOT SING THIS SONG! Don’t sing it high! Don’t sing it low! Don’t hum the tune wherever you go! And should somebody sing along—DO! NOT! SING! THIS! SONG! He sent his guards from door to door: “You’ll sing that foolish tune no more!” Sheets they seized, and quills they claimed, and threatened fines and stocks and shame. And every man who’d never heard, they soon then asked, “What were the words?” By sundown every tavern throng was whispering, “Do not sing this song…” Do not sing this song! Do not sing this song! The king has said it's very wrong, So DO NOT SING THIS SONG! Don’t sing it high! Don’t sing it low! Don’t hum the tune wherever you go! And should a whisper sing along—DO! NOT! SING! THIS! SONG! The king commanded, “Burn each page!” Which rather fueled the public rage. For every copy cast in flame, another twenty bore its name. The merchants sang it selling pies. The children sang it catching flies. The blacksmith hammered right along: Clang-clang—Do not sing this song! Do not sing this song! Do not sing this song! The king has said it's very wrong, so DO NOT SING THIS SONG! Don’t sing it fast! Don’t sing it slow! Don’t teach your grandmother how it goes! Don’t clap your hands or bang a gong—DO! NOT! SING! THIS! SONG! “Then jail the singers!” cried the crown. They filled the cells beneath the town. But stone makes quite a lovely hall When fifty voices fill the wall. The guards went home when day was done, still humming what the prisoners sung. Their wives picked up the tune ere long—"Darling, do not sing that song." Do not sing this song! Do not sing this song! The king has said it's very wrong, So DO NOT SING THIS SONG! Don’t sing at work! Don’t sing in bed! Don’t let that blasted tune inside your head! Don’t whistle while you stroll along—DO! NOT! SING! THIS! SONG! The king decreed throughout the land: “NO SONG! NO TUNE! BY MY COMMAND!” He carved the law on gates and stone so every soul would surely know. And underneath each royal sign, Some wag had scratched one little line: “Pray tell us, sire, before too long… Exactly WHICH forbidden song?” The king then summoned his wisest men. “How many know this song?” “...All of them, Sire.” “ALL?!” “Every village.” “Burn the villages!” “Several neighboring kingdoms know it now.” “HOW?!” “Well, Sire... you did send heralds abroad ordering foreigners not to sing it.” “...Arrest the heralds.” Do not sing this song! Do not sing this song! The king has said it's very wrong, so DO NOT SING THIS SONG! Don’t sing it here! Don’t sing it there! Don’t sing the song you’d not known was there! Don’t tell your friends and pass it on—DO! NOT! SING! THIS! SONG! At last the weary king conceded, “The song is banned no more! DELETE IT! No guards! No fines! No royal fuss! Just stop reminding everyone of us!” The people shrugged. “Well, that's no fun.” And strangely soon the song was done. Within a month, the tune was gone… So naturally— DO NOT SING THIS SONG! THE KING HAS SAID IT’S VERY WRONG, DON'T SING IT HIGH! DON'T SING IT LOW! SING IT EVERY BLOODY PLACE YOU GO! THE SUREST WAY TO MAKE IT STRONG— IS SAY— DO! NOT! SING! THIS! SOOOOOOOOOONG! ...Well. You’ve rather ruined the lesson now.
