Who cares about her face…?

She has body to die for, you have foreseen,

On the scale of one to ten, she is a fourteen,

Her boobs quite big, the rest as you like,

Who cares is she has the face of a bull dyke…?

Twenty years you have been given,

Don’t care do you if you are forgiven,

As long as you have even a picture,

Of this one lovely lady with a face that looks as if over it someone has driven…

So many fantasies can in future occur,

You will not let the face of a man for you deter,

You can ride her from the front or behind wearing a spur,

Wish you had just once a small shot of liqueur…

Why not smile for the next twenty,

With her you certainly have more than enough, yes plenty,

As long as you stay in this cell,

This is where for the next twenty you must permanently dwell…

            © ed ~ 4/20/05