I went to the doctor to grouse.
As I seemed to have lost my own spouse.
Don’t be concerned
You haven’t been spurned.
And let me be blunt,he’s a louse.
I said,is there a shampoo not too dear
To wash such men out of one’s hair?
No,it’s a decision,
Without any contrition,
Never, ever try to be fair.
I said,doctor I was born to be blonde
And of my hair I am reasonably fond.
But my husband has strayed
And I’m not a maid
If you think so,then you have been conned.
You lie for your hair has gone white
Yet it looks blonde by that neon light.
Your skin looks quite pale
Keep out of all gales.
I hope that you will soon be alright.
Well,white hair is currently in vogue
And spectacles are a la mode.
But you are much too thin
To keep a mobile phone in
Your brassiere as its general abode.
Nobody mentions the plus
Of having a very large bus’
You can store stuff in the cleavage
I can hardly believe it
Please don’t let the church make a fuss.
For Christianity has a Gnostical tinge
On which numerous saints have over- binged
The flesh is a danger
As is sex with a stranger.
This is certainly far beyond the fringe.