The Secret

Handsomer men of better height wonder Where the secret of my irresistible charm lies; They do not believe it when I enter the pub And push all the dazzling girls to their highs. It’s the confidence of my mien, The ease of my calculated walk, The warmth of my natural smile And the magic of my honeyed talk. But they still will not believe Why proud girls before me have no say, Why they sip their pretty bottles With one rolling eye cast my way. I tell them it’s because I look so caring, It’s because I don’t force my egotistic way, It’s because I listen to their every word And because I read their moods every day. Most well-muscled chaps still will not accept That it’s these simple things that so easily win The tricky hearts of elegant women out there, And think there must be some spell beneath my skin. I tell them it’s the reassuring certainty of my presence, The impenetrability of my grand and unassailable faith, The feeling of all-ability I inspire with my composure That tells girls I can cure their disturbing wraith. I’m a unique man of his own peculiar taste, Not the type that transfixes women right on their soles; They see all my weaknesses the first minute we meet And for the rest of the time they give me all their souls.