When I am an awful lot older,
Many yeas wiser and bolder,
I shall buy machines,
Grinding teeth to smithereens,
Hateful patients teeth I shall smoulder.

I shall grab a dentists drill,
Feeling a wonderful thrill,
Drilling their canines,
Hearing their screeching wines,
It shall be terrifically shrill.

His name is petrifying to all,
He comes striding to the dentist’s hall
He walks up to his room,
The patient’s place of doom,
At the frightened children he shall bawl.