You wunt believe me if I told ya,
I don’t believe it all myself!
Just what the doctor ordered
but it’s no good for my health.
Call in sick, ‘cos I don’t need it,
all the trouble and the strife.
I may be poor ‘n’ got no money,
but I gotta brand new lease of/on life.

There’s only one word to describe how I feel:


Holds onto me like she won’t let go,
whispers heavy in my ear,
hear the cat-o-nine cut the air,
says I ain’t got nothin’ to fear.
I flinch an’ brace, from flesh to bone,
like some wimpy, gay-like soy.
Watch her thrash and flail, feel the sting,
I’m her English whippin’ boy.



Searched high an’ low all four corners,
of this brave new world.
Not shown mercy nor given quarter,
to find my perfect girl.

Close my eyes tight, role play along,
can’t let this babe get bored.
I’ve yet to see the price I’ll pay,
if I ask I can’t afford.
To tell the truth, ‘tween you and me,
she’s a vision to behold.
Though I’m tired an’ gettin’ on,
this shit will never grow old,



©3.2.2020 Andrew Robert Chapman

she’s a sight to behold.
there’s one word to tell you how I feel:
like some wimpy, gay soy-boy.

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