‘It is the greatest tragedy of all that man was not born gay, with ability to swing on procreation’

IM/WOL/ LOL/ V/MMIX

 

I stand before you, a woman confused

Broken and damaged, sad and bemused

The source of my suffering I’d like to define

The difference between the male psyche and mine

A difference so great, how could I expect

Empathy, honesty, truth or respect?

Which leaves me with little or nothing to say

But ��" ‘I wish, how I wish, how I wish I was gay’

 

For: -

 

What he calls a feeling, I’d call a sensation

What he calls a thrill, I’d call a play station

What he calls erotic, I ‘might’ call smutty

His ‘raison d’etre’, I think I’d call footie…

 

Now football’s a game that you play with 10 men

If you think girls don’t like it, then boys think again

Cos at fantasy football we beat you hands down

We lift the cup and yes we wear the crown

No - that kind of football’s not boring at all

Though it might prove a challenge with 10 men and 1 ball!

 

Now to a man, everyman loves his car most in life

Ranks it higher methinks than his mistress or wife

Cos a Porsche, a Beema a Lotus, a Merc

Sends a message out loud that you’ve made it at work

If it does 0 to 60 in the blink of an eye

You’re an MD, an MP, a P that’s VI

But girls if you sit on the passenger side

Then you’re in for one hell of a white-knuckle ride

When the red turns to green, then you’re in for some flight

Cos no ‘mother fucker’ beats him at the light

Forgive me my friends if my words don’t suit you

For this language erupting from out of the blue

Masculine words that emasculate me

No AC to DC and no parity

No bastard insult for a child with no mum

No ‘father fucker’ or word for male bum

Do I need to go on, do I need to say more?

No masculine word for tart, bitch or whore

Don’t know who invented these words crude and blunt

But whoever it was, was one hell of a cunt.

 

Now to a woman her car is no big deal

Just a collection of rubber and plastic and steel

A bonnet upon it, a bumper, a boot

For your flash wooden dash she’ll give not one hoot

So long as it comes with a mirror or two

Enough room for the shopping and the odd sprog and you

A car’s done its job, you can take it from me

If it gets you from A and then takes you to B

Oh if I had a co-driver who thought just like me

Wouldn’t tut at the muck in my car or debris

Show disdain, deprecation so plain on his face

Take me as I am and my chaos embrace

Nor with slack jowled smirk say to all, take the piss

“ I ask you ��" who on earth would drive a car like this?”

 

Jeremy Clarkson, that smug faced git

He wouldn’t have to get on my tits

Top Gear wouldn’t be on constant rewind

I’d watch what I wanted cos she wouldn’t mind

And his chubby chap chums little Bill and Big Ben

I’d stick them all in a Mercedes Benz

And I’d blast them to hell, yes I’d blast them away

To some lonely planet in some Milky Way

Uranus, my anus, don’t give a shit

So long as they’re not on my box giving it

And while you’re at it take Paxman as well

Are all Jeremies ends of a particular bell?

 

Oh if I had a love, who thought just like me

How blissfully blissful my life could be

She wouldn’t like bikes and she wouldn’t like cars

She’d know on my monthly to fuck off to Mars

She’d know the difference twixt inflow and out

Stay clear of the down pipe, of that I’ve no doubt

A knowledge of plumbing that’s second to none

His ‘Je ne sais ou’, put her finger right on

She’d know what buttons to push and to shove

The ‘unsubtle’ difference between sex and love

 

And if ever she turned and just walked away

She’d know beforehand the right words to say

Wouldn’t freeze at the thought of ‘over-exposure’

She’d leave you intact and she’d leave you with closure.

 

Oh how I wish, how I wish, how I wish I was gay

But I am just not made that way

Don’t like women, how they feel, how they smell

So I guess I’m stuck in own private hell…