She told me never to send her flowers
For they are pesky things just waiting to die
I told her never to ask me how she looked
In some certain dress for I dare not tell a lie
So we both just sat there thinking
That this life held no further surprise
But then came next morning, lying in our bed,
We became a feast for the flies!
Those endearments we prescribe
To our most cherished ones
Can never hope to describe
Just how much they resemble the lovely sun
But if you wait for the perfect moment
To speak up load and clear
You'll be waiting evermore
On a two way street, built of fear!