What a fine man, purveyor of exotic cacao and sumptuous chiles
A long legged ocean stroker and singing canoe paddler.
What a fool, carrying a suitcase of tiny puppets
With no room in it for me.
He was a trampoline leaper and a mean poker player
Played the pan and spoon and the miniature printing press
What an actor, drove a sweet fucking car with a burnt seat
No room in it for me
Goddamn but he was beautiful so I had to look away sometimes
Praised my pussy like it was a tropical fruit
We made big plans, watched the beach, beat the cream
But no room really could have held me.
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