Genes, genes, show how we're bred
In corkscrew strands they stream.
Can give brows so low,
Like Dubya's—he's so slow—
If they're not well-threaded genes.

Genes, genes, they keep us alive.
If they're creamed, we can turn mean.
And sometimes we kill, when our genes make us ill;
Into law's arms we careen.

Like the sheep that was bred to cloned for play,
We could screen out genetics that cause decay.
Though it sounds Mendelian, is it Mengelean?

Genes schemes. Some are brain-dead. . .
Gal in Dallas made give-me pleas
That she lived for the day when her kitty could play.
She had it cloned for fifty Gs.

(Gene, gene)
Yes gene science will thrive.
High tech's become a bad dream.
What done with gene pills can be for good or ill
What sets off alarms: Dolly's genes.