The Prince's Playground (Nursery Rhyme of the Prince of Orphans)

Here in the Prince's Playground,
We'll string a daisy chain,
And drink Sweetmilk til we're round
But get no tummy pain.
A feline Prince of Orphans
Has such sweet yarns to share
With Ice-Cream, treats and more things,
There's plenty sweets to spare.
To laugh and play til morning,
No freedom can compare. The Orphan Maker's second,
His Slayground may seem rather grim,
He only comes when beckoned,
By those who call on him.
He is the child's fierce protector,
He'll take out any mum or pop,
Whose cruelty must be fettered,
To make the crying stop.
When orphan life is better,
The perpetrators get the chop. But there's another somethin',
In the Downstairs Room,
A door of locks and chains bar it in,
It knocks (ratatat) but knocks in vain (ratatat),
The latches may split open,
But Tybalt will protect us from its doom,
For in the Prince's Playground,
Their wards will always find,
Lost boys and girls will always be found,
No Child Left Behind.