Who knew you were as gracious as a pig?
As warm and tender as a baseball bat?
As pure and faithful as an alley cat?
As genuine as Mozart's powdered wig?
I've learned the hard way, buddy. Now the jig
is up. So take your toothbrush and your hat,
your aftershave that masks the smell of rat,
and find the exit. I don't give a fig
whose lips you kiss, with whom and where you lie.
I'm sick of turning green, of seeing red.
Go find another victim who will sob
and wring her hands and swear that she will die
if you betray her. Find another bed
to violate, another heart to rob.
|