I call you Bonny,
Even though it's not your name,
You excite me to no end:
Make me treat life like just a game.
You worry and fret
About having hairy legs -
And the growth of your moustache.
You look at me in the car and hold my hand,
Which I think is rather grand;
But I am more concerned with trying not to crash.
I call you the names
Of my favourite food,
I talk dirty and crass when we're apart
And your craving being screwed;
Now readers may find, this
Somewhat rather rude
But I can honestly assure you, that
It is nothing compared, to
When we're in the nude.
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