Balding with middle-aged spread,
Alone in you marital bed.
The wife creased and stained, she's aged and fat.
But sadly I read about you,
In double-page headline news.
The stories I read I found hard to believe.

The scandal of Billy Randall, the local, vocal Rotarian,
Went out one night, went out, with a luscious Aquarian.

Temptingly sat on your knee,
Was this how you wanted to be,
Touching the parts that were always denied.
Caught in the back of your car,
You'd obviously gone too far.
The policeman was laughing as you stroked her air.

Chorus.

Stripped of your public respect,
Your life has been totally wrecked.
The neighbours ignore and relations deplore.
Your life is now painful and grim,
Simply because of a sexual whim.
The love letters covered in blood on the bed.

Chorus.

© Edward ian Armchair 2002