Little toy soldier, how do you do?

The master is happy, and, for that, so are you.

He plays his games while you play your drums;

While he sits on satin, you sit on your thumbs.

 

Little toy soldier, please stand up straight.

The master is happy, so don’t make him wait.

He gave you his eyes, that’s just one on a list;

But if you aren’t careful, he’ll give you his fist.

 

Little toy soldier, where did you go?

Why are you hiding in master’s chateaux?

He’s treated you nicely and raised you up right;

But in gratitude all that you do is fight.

 

Little toy soldier, get back in line.

Play by his rules and things will be fine.

Master is watching, master’s aware;

He knows where you go when you aren’t there.

 

Little toy soldier, why do you stray?

Don’t you know that it is wrong to be gay?

Master was gracious, master was nice;

But now you’re a fire pirouetting on ice.

 

Little toy soldier, do you hear me?

Your song is too loud for tranquility.

Master no longer enjoys your music;

He prefers the bassoon, your drums make him sick.

 

Little toy soldier, how does it feel,

To carry those drums that can no longer heal?

But don’t worry, soldier, the day will come soon;

When you’ll put down your drums

and pick up a bassoon.

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