Pansy Moon The Boxers
[Verse 1]
Arriving home after day damn dull consumed
I minced some words I could not properly use
With her as a stew on the boil betwixt confused
All half-cocked and at loss words to say
[Verse 2]
"oh please
Be a dear and fetch the peck of motes picked last night
That I might peel-and-stick them in your eyes
To keep quiet while cooking my estimable prize
That I gathered greedily to display"
[Chorus]
Can't phone home
Cannot be alone
So I might as well stay
[Verse 3]
Brickjaw, stumbling took a boxer's seat on the parquet
And I must confess, felt a pinch-of-salt ashamed
That I should interrupt her fine cooking this day
But what of it? - less hair on my pate
[Chorus]
Can't phone home
Cannot be alone
So I might as well stay