I saw a beast with seven heads,
And fourteen pillows for his beds.
One head was slothful, one loved wealth;
You can guess the rest yourself.
His hat rack was a mile high,
Dessert: a bakery full of pie.
Tons of socks for all his feet,
A church pew was his only seat.
And when one head made up its mind,
The others never fell in line.
An argued life that never ceased.
Now aren’t you glad you’re not a beast?