One turd here, one turd there,
I think they're having an affair.
The smell of their love, with a glove,
I cover with a polythene care.
Live love birds, even if you're turds,
Nothing they say can be off the list.
Love and war, preoccupied so far,
The humor is in the gist.
But be that as it may, as just a lay,
Person sans the purse strings.
Valentines day with no Valentine at all,
That's really what my love brings.
The much fairer sex, quite easily vex,
Often poorly defined or understood.
Men have a dick, thoughts very thick,
Hallowed are the lives of the crude.
Belated my wish, I'm not that "selfish,"
Kind that makes a girl wet.
I cannot expect my name,
On a thick greeting cards set.
Close your eyes and imagine,
Two love turds together.
Not a fright, nay, nor a blight,
But happily ever fucking after.
