It's such a happy homely brand,
such a loving hand to hold.
Nothing says "forced adoration" quite the same
as an overpriced printed bit of Hallmark card.
Though I came in drunk last night
and all we've done is fight,
and we haven't actually spoken for a week,
this greeting card's designed to wipe out
all the battle lines and it's guaranteed
an armistice today.
The poem in it's shitty,
the romancing is pithy,
but I covered it in kisses
so I know that you'll forgive me
cos it promises the moon and earth and stars.
I got an M&S meal cos I can't be arsed to cook,
and I might be on a promise for a Valentine's fuck,
showing willing with the roses and the fizz.
A tenner on a ready meal,
a helium balloon;
surely that's enough to earn a jizz?
And how about a teddy?
A fluffy wuffy bear,
with a heart as big as China on the front
(and on the tag)?
Or a Moonpig tailor-made,
saying stuff I never say,
to show that I'm not really such a cunt.
Happy Valentine's my love!
Now let's get drunk!