Your Rusted Knight

Oct 6, 1997

How can you moan and whine,
"All good men are taken,"
When I sit before you,
And am forsaken.


You want Mr. Perfect,
All teeth and muscles great
My spectacles I tip,
To your ideal mate.


I have round shoulders,
No pearly whites,
Have low standards,
You will suffice.


If you can do the same -
The world is compromise.
Take the succor of drink,
The night will be nice.


I fancy I'm realistic,
You're not there yet,
I'll be waiting a while:
For your ambitions, I'm the net.


Tell me when you reach,
The earth we walk and dwell,
You are no beauty my dear,
Shatter your illusion so well.


Made for each other,
You will recognize,
Two coals among the diamonds,
If only you open your eyes.


So let us lock, entwine,
Our unmanicured hands,
has brought us here,
Don't write it off to chance.