He’s the type to throw beige paint
On a parrot
Sees gold until he has it
Bold grows old
Then he’s bolting like the rabbit
And nowadays she’s old pick
About as special
As pearls in front of pigs
She’s just the butt of his sex jokes
That get the boys rolling
Hooting with the high pitch of dolphins
Plucked and touched
And not a magnet no more
She’s become the very thing
He adores.
By Lyric Deep.
Lyric Deep™ 