Yore cut from the best pattern, like a flannel shirt of plaid,
You sparked up my life, like a Rattletrap shad.
When you hold me real tight, like a padded gunrack,
My life is complete; ain't nuttin' I lack.
Yore complexion, it's perfection, like the best vinyl sidin'.
Despite all the years, yore age, it keeps hidin'.
And when you get old, like a '57 Chevy,
Won't put you on blocks, and let grass grow up heavy.
Some men, they buy chocolate, for Valentine's Day;
They get it at Tesco; it's romantic that way.
Some men give roses on that special day ;
From the cooler at Noel; "That's impressive," I say.
Some men buy fine diamonds, from a flea market booth.
"Diamonds are forever," they explain, suave and couth.
But for this man, these will not do.
For you are too special, you sweet thang you.
I got you all a gift, without taste nor odor,
Better than diamonds; It's a new trollin' motor!
Guys! what shall we call her?
1 comment:
bug's bunny can?
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