If I was in love, I would take her everywhere with me,
Show her around, clothe her dine with her bed her.
And she needs drinks, I’d provide,
To call this friend an alibi –
One to run to, one to hold,
As days will pass, in years of old.
If I was young, not sprung or done,
Not lied to, gibbered, dotterel…
How many more, do women go,
Past my door and telephone?
And she needs drinks, and drink she will,
Quaff and scoff a purple pill.
What half-committed dalliance,
Has broken faith with low science?
We’re blind, of course, we’re deaf to boot,
Because she wants me for the loot!