Tubthumper
13-Aug-07, 18:16
In the traffic queue only yesterday
With the lights firmly set on red
While idly staring the time away
I slightly inclined my head
To the rear view mirror my glance was drawn
A saddening sight I thereupon saw
The girl in the car placed directly behind
Was studying deeply from forehead to jaw
She spent a full five minutes running hand across her hair
A-checking just in case there were grey items anywhere
She checked her nose to make sure that it remained right in place
And made quite certain nothing untoward was on her face
Now don’t get me wrong, the lass was a doll
If I were a younger man, in love I’d fall
But what worried me was that she spent her time
Just studying face looking for the first signs
Of aged collapse, of a blemish or hair
The moment she detected fall-off from fair
It told me that in her mind there’d be a worry
Her sleep would be broken, she’d be awful sorry
It panics me to think that in this world we live today
Our girls exist in fear of when their beauty slips away
To spend a life so panic stricken ‘waiting fall from splendour
And live short days in line with marketing from make-up vendor
And so I shook my head and just resorted back to type
That girls should spend their income on such one-dimension tripe
Each lass should remain true to self, reject the jars and tubes
I hate to think what money gets shelled out on plastic boobs
Our girls gain paranoia, from the ads in magazines
They get the worries and the panics from their early teens
That point at those of less than optimum essential measures
And doubt that they will be, in eyes of males, desired treasures
I am a simple fella and I must admit I laughed
Cos then I thought about myself, and felt a wee bit daft
At traffic lights I sit with finger right up nose, and scratch
My big fat belly, idly farting, rubbing at bald patch
So lady, though I know not who you were or whence you came
I’m sorry that I thought of you as vanity-centred dame
Please ladies, don’t be sucked into this vacuous world of hype
Don’t be so worried that you’ll be the ugly sort of type
Although you do not measure up to superficial bint
Remember that we real men like the burds with sprit glint
A spider’s leg, a plook or two, a bit sticks out too far?
It doesn’t matter one wee jot, we’ll wander near and far
To find that ideal woman, she’ll have flaws galore like me
But up for romp and cuddle, full of fine inner beauty
With the lights firmly set on red
While idly staring the time away
I slightly inclined my head
To the rear view mirror my glance was drawn
A saddening sight I thereupon saw
The girl in the car placed directly behind
Was studying deeply from forehead to jaw
She spent a full five minutes running hand across her hair
A-checking just in case there were grey items anywhere
She checked her nose to make sure that it remained right in place
And made quite certain nothing untoward was on her face
Now don’t get me wrong, the lass was a doll
If I were a younger man, in love I’d fall
But what worried me was that she spent her time
Just studying face looking for the first signs
Of aged collapse, of a blemish or hair
The moment she detected fall-off from fair
It told me that in her mind there’d be a worry
Her sleep would be broken, she’d be awful sorry
It panics me to think that in this world we live today
Our girls exist in fear of when their beauty slips away
To spend a life so panic stricken ‘waiting fall from splendour
And live short days in line with marketing from make-up vendor
And so I shook my head and just resorted back to type
That girls should spend their income on such one-dimension tripe
Each lass should remain true to self, reject the jars and tubes
I hate to think what money gets shelled out on plastic boobs
Our girls gain paranoia, from the ads in magazines
They get the worries and the panics from their early teens
That point at those of less than optimum essential measures
And doubt that they will be, in eyes of males, desired treasures
I am a simple fella and I must admit I laughed
Cos then I thought about myself, and felt a wee bit daft
At traffic lights I sit with finger right up nose, and scratch
My big fat belly, idly farting, rubbing at bald patch
So lady, though I know not who you were or whence you came
I’m sorry that I thought of you as vanity-centred dame
Please ladies, don’t be sucked into this vacuous world of hype
Don’t be so worried that you’ll be the ugly sort of type
Although you do not measure up to superficial bint
Remember that we real men like the burds with sprit glint
A spider’s leg, a plook or two, a bit sticks out too far?
It doesn’t matter one wee jot, we’ll wander near and far
To find that ideal woman, she’ll have flaws galore like me
But up for romp and cuddle, full of fine inner beauty