Merry Christmas Amanda

Here’s a song I didn’t write

But I messed with it in spite

Hope you enjoy it late

Since I can’t control my fate

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You can lick off my lip gloss

I want your all-important mojo

Better clean those hands with Gojo

If your sea men can cure cancer

I can be your belly-dancer

I’ll be your sidekick, Sancho Panza

You’ll be my everlasting stanza

I want your admiration

Take me off of this vacation

I want some kind of merger

Can we take it any further?

I want you to hear me moan

Play me like Dad’s saxophone

You’ll be my member with your club

(Perhaps without that awful thud)

I want my ankles wrapped around your neck

Can I  pull it off? Oh heck!

I want us to travel around the world

I’m ready for flight with wings unfurled

It will take less than eighty days

No prerequisite required such as haze

I want a sweet seduction

Enough of this self-induction

You could be my dog if I can be your pet

All this nasty talk has me getting all wet

Maybe this kind of humor should be delivered dry

Just can’t throw in the towel as I get high

Hopefully, this has been titillating

Since I really want you penetrating

Then again, if you wash my mouth out with soap

You’d see my poetry addiction as dope

Certainly, you could throw me a rope

And we could play tug-o-war with hope

My darling, it doesn’t quite cut the mustard

Because when it’s gone clear there’s no custard

I really don’t want to desert my dessert

Maybe we could share it in a yurt

I’m horny, but explaining

Only seems like I’m complaining

Since you only understand from your perspective

And I don’t want to seem defective

Still, you ask what’s my objective

Seems my love is quite effective

Sweetheart, in all retrospective

Thoughts have been quite subjective

And in being so selective

I’m protective of earnings prospective

I want the fairytale without politics

Yet, that only leaves me a heretic

So, for now I can be a fish swimming upstream

You’ll hold onto my tail in our dream

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I’m not the doctor, I told him

And so you think, he replied

But as we looked into each others’ eyes

We both knew, we just knew

Neither of us had the remedy

And no matter whom we compared notes with

There was no cure…only the chance of a possible remedy

Parting may be such sweet sorrow, but if we stay here…

Can’t get two morels (SH-ROooom!)

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Taking Stock

It’s not a dumb bell that I lift

Just a sound for you to gift

To those who are in need

Let them have your chicken feed

Or strut on by feeling thankful

That you have yourself a bagful

You’ll still hear the stinging ring

No, I’m not a ding-a-ling

Sometimes I must give back

Lest I feel under attack

For my deep-set conscience knows

Who fed me and how love grows

The mysterious Santa is you

But maybe there’s no clue

That you really hold the glue

On the planet always blue

No matter – Whatever!

I continue the endeavor

Of which I cannot measure

Yet, I’ll enjoy the weather

I’m trading in those spurs that jingle-jangle-jingle

Still, I go riding merrily along

And wedding bells will replace

Whenever I stop running the rat race

Meanwhile, as I do the jingle-bell rock

I’ll try not to gossip or talk

Since singing the melody helps me take stock

About what I’m put here to do (Entertain you!)

Se la vie & Adios!

Feliz Navidad! I am engrossed

Mele Kalikimaka!

Bells I’m gonna ROCK-A!

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Marooning the Moon

Mirror, Mirror on the wall

I just painted you down the hall

Because you were chipped & an ugly maroon

So, I painted your frame black with gold trim

Now I’ll howl at the moon while I try to stay slim

Similar am I with a chip on my shoulder

Growing new wings as I grew much bolder

Marooning myself on an island so lush

I couldn’t help but develop a crush

Money goes down the black hole

To disappear as we’re on a roll

On our trip to the Milky Way

But really, it’s just another day

And everyone’s mooning over me

I don’t quite understand

Everyone’s a foreigner discovering new land

Seems I’ve found my place in the sun

While finding love on the run

I’ll bathe in her ocean serene

That’s how I’m living the dream

So, Mirror, Mirror on the wall

It’s not so bad being vain at all

As long as the veins don’t bulge or I reflect too long

And I miss out on singing another song

Somehow, it all seemed to multiply

And many are catching my eye

That’s why they call it ‘SOCIETY’

(So they can all sigh at me!) 😍

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To find a lady in duress wearing a dress
Would be finding her stress in a mess
She will be loved, I’m sure she will
She’s got that hungry space to fill
Soothing her angry, preoccupied mind
Is an art performed while blind
Completely oblivious to her woe
There is no stopping or going slow
Certainly, you may drive with a stick
And shift into gear rather quick
But the vehicle now has a microchip
It’s programmed to avoid your lip
Even as you strain to maintain control
It veers off to go mudding thru the snow
Patrol car may try to behavior cease
But in return, her passion would only increase!

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They say milk does a body good
But the milk sacks get weary
And the milk can get sour
If too much the body’s deflowered
We pine and yearn to be milked
For what it’s worth under the kilt
But once the milk has spilled, what next?
We sit around highly perplexed
No use crying about it
Not even explain, sigh, or get high
Just another cheap thrill
To replace taking a pill
I’m milking this for all it’s worth
Because then, I live a life of mirth
And no, I don’t need a tweaking or a twerk
And yes, I do hate my reaction of knee jerk
If I could become the bee’s knees
Perhaps the cat’s whiskers wouldn’t make me sneeze
I could lap up all the milk that spilled
Maybe then could become fulfilled
So, my friends, milk is for babies
And it helps them grow
How about another show
Such as an episode of GLOW
Shining, naked, truthful bodies
Wearing disguises while sleeping in poppies
Maybe all the world IS asleep
As well, questions run too deep…(Supertramp)

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