So much a giant as a tiny elf
Would like to make a copy of himself,
We call that need an "Urge to Reproduce"
Or urge for s*x, which makes all hell break loose.
Because of this persistent earthly urge
All kinds of life's great purposes emerge-
Whoever makes most copies of his kind
Shall have contentment, bliss and peace of mind.
But nature can be fooled and we can find
Contentment, joy and all the peace of mind
By going through the reproductive motion
While stemming sperm's intense and fuming ocean.
Let's wear condoms, diaphragms and such,
So sperm and egg don't ever get in touch
Thus we can savour joys or replication
Without the fear of fiscal dissipation.
