My lady likes a hairy man
Who eats his food straight from a can,
Walks silently around the house
And saved her from a wild mouse.
Her dream guy sleeps both long and hard.
Around him she lets down her guard.
He can snuggle up at night
And make the whole world feel alright.
She likes the feeling of his tongue,
Not worried he’s no longer young.
The only worry I have is that
Is this guy me, or is it her cat?
The Daily Travesty 