Debs And Amy R.I.P.
I rue the day we ever met, for
she never knows when to stop,
her warehouse space enormous
she's a twenty-four-hour shop
my paramour Alma is an amazon
one that always delivers on time,
her supply chain quite amazing
while she knows prices to a dime
yet there's a fatal flaw in big Alma
true, she makes out without fail,
but she's a sad blow-up doll when
you're craving a bit of real tail
I require a woman not heartless
who loves men for themselves,
not an automat monopolising
the planet from infinite shelves
I'm going back to the High Street
damp, chilly but lots of fresh air,
and girls of flesh and blood with
whom Alma cannot compare
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