One you’d like to take a poke at,
Or cartoonists make a joke at,
And it swelled forth arrogantly
Like a big round fleshy bubble.
Behind that chin the Blackshirts
Saw a leader for their nation.
Mussolini had a Roman jaw
With powers of great oration.
If you had that sort of chin, ya
Could raise Hell in Abyssinia,
And join with Hitler in his lust
For wanton devastation!
But when his people called a truce, they
Chased and caught and killed IL DUCÉ
And hung him, by his booted heels,
For public degradation!
Thus the moral of this story
Is that, If you’re seeking glory,
Learn the single Golden Rule that all
The boxing champs expound:
Keep your chin tucked in your shoulder,
Or, before you get much older,
You will find yourself upended –
With your chin upon the ground!
