I don’t like to tie my shoestrings,
It’s something I don’t like to do.
They trip me when I walk and run,
And get all black with mud and goo.

Strangers stop me just to tie them,
And when they’ve finished they say, “There.”
They rub my head and walk away,
And leave me with all mussed up hair!

I really ought to tie my shoes,
Before my mother has a cow.
The reason I’ve not done it yet,
Is that I’ve quite forgotten how!