The French were unhappy with the hangman’s noose
One convict escaped because the noose was too loose

Another so light that his neck didn’t break
He fell to the ground but his death was a fake

One poor sod writhed, coughing and choking
While sadistic onlookers sat laughing and joking

Then came an efficient execution machine
Known to the world as the French guillotine

The prisoner knelt, head held firmly below
The blade was released, I’m sure that you know

And can imagine the fate of that head
Let us just say, without doubt it was dead

Death in this way was painless and sure 
Nevertheless, I find it lacking allure

I picture my poor head spinning about 
With my precious neurons all spewing out

I know it was used on the queen and the king
But please don’t look at me, it isn’t my thing

I’d so much prefer retaining my head
And kicking that bucket while lying in bed