Did you hear? Bad news today...
The wee man's sick! He's got Big J.
Big J, indeed? What's that, I wonder?
JAYDZ is what they file it under!
JAYDZ you say? It sounds familiar!
Mark Fowler had it! Supposed to kill yer!
Rock Hudson too! And Liberace!
It gets about. It must be catchy.
Now, I know what you're thinking of.
JAYDZ is different. Not as rough!
With a day in bed, and lots of rest,
You'll soon regain your pre-JAYDZ zest!
Yet what is it, this malady,
That can't be passed on sexually?
You'll not get it from infections!
Nor blood transfusions! Nor injections!
JAYDZ is strange, the truth be told.
JAYDZ is got by getting old!
You'll sneeze! You'll cough! You'll shite the bed!
You'll speak in tongues! You'll raise the dead!
Your ma will have to wash your sheeting!
Thank fuck, she'll say, that JAYDZ is fleeting!
He's got the JAYDZ! Now he's like me.
I miss the days when he was wee.
For JAYDZ, like death, affects us all.
It wears us down. It makes us small.
So what to do? What can be done?
If JAYDZ is meant for everyone?
Hit JAYDZ a boot right up its hole!
You mustn't let it take it toll!
A smile! A laugh! A joke a day!
That's what keeps the JAYDZ at bay.
So don't get old. Don't be a man.
Stay young instead like Peter Pan!
In this shitey world that we've created,
Growing up is fucking overrated.
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