Meet my dear lover; we go nine, the whole, yards
Passion arouses, she mutters, "Go down"
Then, wild girl, back of body, nail: scratches
Scratches, from darling: by wife, hope not found

See, I am married, but turned out a bummer
Fish? Master bait? Or get piece on the side?
Now, home goes me and await wife's jaws snappin'
She mustn't know; keep my shirt on to hide

Scratches, oh, what can I do?
Can't bare these marks to this shrew
There's no way to erase; cover scars: make-up base?
Wear T-shirt and hope don't show through

Each night I cry; it's like sleeping with auntie
While pretty Patty's my lady and wh*re [1]
Wife doesn't know that I frequently see her
Scratches so pink, my wild ride evermore

I hear a neighbor spewing some blather
Rumors she spreads, about Patty 'round town
Sleeping face-up with this prude-y non-giver
Gives shoulder, so cold, hard; won't roll panties down

Scratches, oh, what can I do?
This mare, a loud screamer, too
It may not be right, but I'll join you tonight
Scratches: I'm coming (you, too!)



[1] Adage-old description of the ideal woman: "A lady in the living room and a wh*re in the bedroom".