Rubbing his legs together
He makes such a horrible sound
Playing his song, what seems like forever
Refusing to ever be found
My search has lasted for days on end
But I seek, with no avail
I wait each night, for his song to begin
Once again, reliving my hell
I look in under the bed, where I sleep
But of course, he's never there
Ever so carefully, I quietly creep
To look under the livingroom chair
I look behind the stove where I cook
But that's not his hiding place
Thoughts of murder, each night that I look
As I tire from this never ending chase
Night after night, he gets my attention
While singing his mating song
Lookin for love, is his only intention
While making my nights so long
His song keeps echoing, inside of my head
Each night, as the sun starts to fade
I now curse the night, as I lay in my bed
As I listen, to this "Cricket Serenede"
Conversations confusing
Google bots are oozing as I type
Quiet yet quite the riot
Gents lament a Goddess rant
Counting Coronets that can’t…
Hailing comments that She shan’t
Whale her song from a ship of Pink.
While her telly was quite the philly
Her belly was shaking with quiet silly
A butter in the fly has stumbled…
Tumbling his tongue on a British bum.
She laughed as she came undone and
He remembers now, the dame’s name.
Especially, the special invented his game.
Peace and pieces were all to blame, so
Sasanova lost her shame… and went froth.
Up the Gemini and into the Earth…
Tales from the doggie, so Sirius at first
Said ales of Corona created Mirth.
Martha, is such a ham when she works!
Sang a song about six biggie wics
Five for games and one for sticks…
Dear John, Flame of my heart,
Your elip Tickles O’l Neptune’s part!
Dear Ed, did you hear of the start!
Two men in wigs… made a Casaba tart!
Logs only have rhythm… when they’re lagers…
Honey, pass my reed please… near the sandals.dear ;)~