THE WOMAN'S POEM:
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 queen. A man who loves to cook and clean.
I pray this man will love no other. And relish visits with my mother.
THE 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.
