Song of the Plaster.

Heigh Ho! I am the plaster, and
I'm made by some great master hand;
You surely will not doubt it.
And if you see a drop or two
Of dampness, use a mop or two,
And say no more about it.

What if I chip and crack a bit,
In beauty I don't lack a bit,
My colour is perfection.
There's nothing really mean in me,
If any one will lean on me,
I'll part with my complexion.