There’s a six-pack coolin’ in the fridge,
let me pour one while you chill.
How was your day?
You know you look great even with your grey.
I made your tea, charcoal grilled meat,
no salad, soy or shite.
Cooked just how YOU like, fuck that “health advice”!
Your body’s more than trim and tight!
I bought some erotic toys,
I’m aching to make some noise,
‘fore I forget, your best mate called.
I’ve practised for an hour or two,
so we can game all night,
but, if you prefer, I can chauffeur,
so you can drink till you’re piss drunk blind.
Yeah fuck your boss! He’s a total tosser
and your workplace is a dive.
My love, my love, I can’t thank you enough,
for those working hours you sacrifice,
so we can live high on the hog,
you are my one demi-God,
let me express my thanks all night.
I heard there’s a rock band playin’,
and a new strip joint where we
could spend the wee weekend hours.
Or maybe get our hands dirty,
with your fifty seven Chevvy,
and clean up together in the shower.
©14.2.2020 Andrew Robert Chapman