A man professes his love for his woman.

If I asked you, would you bake a tart,
spread honey on my bread?
Wrap cotton wool around my heart,
and take me to your bed?

For reciting poetry every day,
would you think me a terrible bore?
And at night as by your side I lay,
would you kick me when I snore?

Will you applaud me rapturously,
if I sing badly out of tune?
And bake me dough nuts for my tea,
then throw them at the moon?

Would you learn to get on with my folks,
and see only the best in me?
Would you laugh at all my stupid jokes,
even ones that you don't see?

Would you kiss it better where it hurt,
and warm me when I freeze?
Would you dress up in my favourite shirt,
and bless me when I sneeze?

Would you hold me tightly in your arms,
my face against your breast?
Would you see through all my worthless charms,
ignoring all the rest?

Please help me when I lose my way,
and guide me through the storm.
Then give me somewhere soft to lay,
and keep me nice and warm.

My faults that always irritate,
could you forgive them all?
Like all the times I turn up late,
and sometimes not at all.


Then raise a glass and drink a toast,
to a man who failed to succeed.
Who lost the things he loved the most,
through selfishness and greed.

For just a man is what I am,
a man like any other.
I laugh, I cry, I curse, I damn,
and I'm not the greatest lover.

But if you could cope with things I do,
even though some are quite bizarre.
I'd love no-one like I love you,
my angel, from afar.