A short scribble for my nancy boy

seems to be so cheap, stupid and coy

don’t care about dark clouds around you

refusing an expensive cure

I can’t stand you don’t get on my nerves

sweet perfection that only you serve

has made me wrapped around your finger

my favourite place where I linger

and I would queue to get a part of you.

The smoke of your cigarettes has filled my veins

slightly smeared make-up on your cute face

and lipstick-trace on my pillow

will maybe pall on me tomorrow

I’m not happier than I was before

you aren’t so great, I know that it’s for sure

and I’m not jealous just hate your lover(s)

I’ve got red eyes and wasted hours

and I would queue to get a part of you.