Your argument gets up my nose.
Get off my back, don’t tread on my toes!
You shake your fist, you’re in my face;
blowing hot and cold, the way you scold
is such a peevish, grumpy disgrace.
Your verbal abuse is physical too –
I’m tied up in knots trying to deal with you.
I’m climbing the wall and tearing my hair,
but your purple face says you don’t care.
You rant and rave, and I’m not brave –
your noisy din I take on the chin;
it really does make my dizzy head spin.
Calm down you twit, and get a grip –
not around my throat, you stupid goat,
or I’ll take a trip on the very next boat.
Don’t wind me up, or shout at me,
needlessly and repeatedly.
Let’s put our shoulders to the wheel
and pull together – then I feel
we’ll hold our heads high, and with a calm sigh
you’ll shake my hand when you understand.
I’ll pick up the knife that caused all the strife –
I’ll cut that damn pizza on our kitchen table
into equal halves – I should be able.
But you could not, you wanted the lot!
Stop blowing on it to cool it down!
I like it hot, don’t make me frown…
Oh no, we’ve started up again,
this arguing is such a pain –
now it’s my turn to deliver a burn.
But I mustn’t scold, I’ll try to grin,
for your skin really is far too thin.
Oh look, you’ve got cheese dribbling down your chin.
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