He's got secular joy 
He's a peculiar boy 
But now the lustre has gone 
The peculiar boy is no more 

Who'll save him from being a man?
Not me 

He's got precious youth 
But forsaken, forsooth 
And now the shine grows dim 
Change tradition for whim 

Who'll save him from being a man?
Not me 

He's got clothes all red 
Strewn on a purple bed 
But now the red's in his eyes 
He's no longer a prize 

Who'll save him from being a man?
Not me

I'm qualified, not me
I'm insured to that, not me
I didn't kill the cat, not me
I don't know where it's at, not me

But now his skin is slack 
He shows a certain lack 

Who'll save him from being a man?
Not me
Who'll save him from being a man?
Not me
Who'll save him from being a man?
Not me