Before I lay me down to sleep,
I pray for a man who's not a creep.
One who's handsome, smart and strong,
One who loves to listen long,
One who thinks before he speaks,
One who'll call, not wait for weeks.
I pray he's rich and self-employed,
And when I spend, won't be annoyed.
Pull out my chair and hold my hand.
Massage my feet and help me stand.
Oh send a king to make me a queen.
A man who loves to cook and clean.
I pray this man will love no other,
And relish visits with my mother.
A MAN'S POEM:
I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac with
big tits who owns a bar on a golf course,
and loves to send me fishing and drinking. This
doesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit.
STORMBRINGER SENDS
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