You go to the head,
But I never hear the water tap run;
And I rather hate to spoil all your fun–
But I kind of wish you'd wash when you're done.

You go to the head,
And you linger while you're combing your hair;
But I wonder if you might give some care
To your hygiene when you've touched you down there.

I thrill at the thought
That you might give a thought
To my plea that you scrub when you pee;
You must say to yourself,
"You've took hold of yourself:
Can't you see–it's unsanitary."

You go to the head,
Then I see you make a sandwich or two;
When I refuse one please don't be so blue–
'Til I call the Health Department on you;
But I'm certain that I'll feel just fine
Hearing some splashing perchance
When you've zipped up your pants–
'Til then I'll see red
When you go to the head.