At the Fair on the Green with balloons in the air,
the rides were a-whirling, the candy was there.
The music went thump, and the lights went bing-bing—
oh, the Fair was a very nice, wonderful thing!
But children ran wild with no parents in sight,
they shouted and shoved, they picked every fight.
They toppled the cones and they trampled the grass,
they snatched all the tickets and cut to the pass.
The ponies got spooked and the vendors grew sore,
the custard was flung on the Tilt-a-Whirl floor.
A marching band fled from a rain of old shoes,
and the popcorn man sobbed, “I can’t take this abuse!”
The grown-ups just shrugged, “Oh, kids will be kids,
what harm could they do with the things that they did?”
But the mayor was frowning and tearing his hair,
“This chaos must end! No more children at Fair!”
So the gates were all locked, and the lights dimmed away,
and the rides stood in silence where laughter once played.
The townsfolk all sighed at the loss that it brings:
“We warned you, we told you… this is why we can’t have nice things.”
