You Don't Have To Camp Around

Daddy don't like it but mommy still wonders, sweet boy

But you're allowed to try it and I point no fingers

Sweet boy, but I'm still wonderin' what it means, boy

You hold your wrist so limply

You don't have to camp around

Save all your money, go confess on sunday, sweet boy

And you get your copy of "honey,"

Back on the street by monday

Sweet boy, but tell me where does that leave me, boy

Save the satin undies, don't pluck out your eyebrows

Stow the mincey lisping, you don't have to camp around