beneath my dignity to climb a tree

I’ll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up. Not me.
Tomorrow, I will be celebrating my birthday.
I’ll be getting old. Older.
So, let them (you!) eat cake, I say.
As long as it’s Kosher for Passover.
And I’m serious.
I’ll never grow up.
Not me. Not I. Not me. No Sir.