Dashing All My Hopes

Tune: James Pierpont's "Jingle Bells"

Dashing all my hopes
For begetting without strife—
Seen through microscopes—
Amitotic life!
Things that reproduce
Not by intercourse—
It seems a bit like self-abuse,
But hey, there's no divorce! Oh—!

Single-cells, single-cells
Just aren't into sex—
Which, of course, means no debates
As to who picks up the checks. Oh!
Single-cells, single-cells
Simply subdivide;
Science knows of very few
Who subscribe to Modern Bride.

Single-cells, single-cells
Have no better half's;
All alone they split in two;
It's the way they get their laughs.
Single-cells, single-cells
Never get divorced;
Reproductive pleasure, though,
Is perhaps a wee bit forced.