I was raised out in the country
A couple miles past “out in the sticks”
And I’ve got that country talent
For meetin’ just the most unfaithful chicks;
The Jezebels and the Delilahs,
The ones who’ll love you ‘til the dawn
But when I’m done cookin’ ‘em breakfast
It’s an empty bed, and oh! My wallet’s gone!
Woe is me! Woe is I! Woah, I think I caught her eye…
What’s the harm in making one more try?
Well I’ve tried bein’ a nice guy,
Bein’ bad, and bein’ cool,
But the role I’m best at playin’
Has gotta be the damned romantic fool.
Well I keep a few reminders
Of them in my rogue’s gallery.
If I’d a dollar for each trinket
I could pay a politician’s salary.
Woe is me! Woe is I! Woke up, so I didn’t die.
What’s the harm in making one more try?
Well they’ve got these handy programs
Where women on the worldwide web‘ll
Write about how they love laughter,
Tasty food, travel, hiking, and a rebel.
Seems a shame they’d waste their effort
Fielding mail from some desperate guy
When here I am, arms and heart open
And when it ends she’ll never cry.
Woe is me! Woe is I! Woman please just hit “reply.”
What’s the harm in making one more try?
Sure, when all is done and finished
Her ego’s big and mine’s diminished,
But I keep making one more try…
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The Daily Travesty 