I would still fancy you if you were only 3 ft tall

Even if your head was the size of a tennis ball

If you were paralysed from the hairline down

I’d still give you a call.  

Your charisma melts away my guard

My priority is not just to make you hard

I want to embrace balls lovingly

Like Frankie Lampard.

If you were Priminister you’d still stop to check road kill

You’re like Einstein employed on a Primark till

Like Daniel Day Lewis

Being cast as an extra in The Bill.

I want to bathe forever in a river of your milk

You are of a rare and wonderful ilk

I’ll still want you when you’re as grey

As Robert Kilroy Silk.

I pinch myself, but no longer in self harm

We go at it like they do on Animal Farm

Then you cuddle me

Like bread does to chips in a chip barm.

If you were a coat I’d wear you in summer

Morph myself into a guitar if you were a strummer

And happily have a sex change

If you were a bummer.

Your presence would render Robbie Williams too nervous to sing

Cause a Butcher’s knife to wobble over a chicken wing

And make Matthew Perry feel suddenly inadequate

In the role of Chandler Bing.

If you were a Pelican I’d ride in your beak

If you turned into Susan Boyle I’d still adore your physique

If you got pelted with sunflower oil in 35 degree sun

I’d buy the world’s biggest baseball cap and shade you with its peak.

If you developed a bread addiction I’d dedicate my life to dough

And if you were scared of dry land I’d learn to row

I will cling to you forever

Like glitter in an Afro.