My Sweetheart
She has jealous eyes that tend to look at each other,
She’s the spitting image of her dear old mother.
Her heals are all crusty and cracked,
And she has more hair covering her chest and her back.
With a body that looks like a half melted bar of lard,
Soft in some places, and others it’s hard.
She sat on mypoor dog Rover, and it took me two days to find,
He now walks around with an all seeing dog for the event made him blind.
She wears this hair piece a $1.50 e bay comb over,
That looks like the hair between her cheeks left by poor Rover.
There’s this fat she has that looks like semi digested jelly,
It takes ten minutes to stop wobbling, and that’s under her chin not her belly.
But this is the woman that I once carried,
Over the threshold when we were married.
A woman that can clear a five mile radius with a single fart,
The woman I refer to as my sweetheart.
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