Open wide I won't kiss and tell
Your teeth look like the gates of hellI'll prod and pick, scrape and tap
Guide you in the dental guilt trap
I'll tut and frown and mention blood
Then ask for a fortune or it's all no good
But if I'm poor and cannot pay
Over the years teeth are taken away
And not a one is ever put back
Into this gaping, sagging crack
So I take it on the chin; that's my chance
But no one now will ask me to dance