I must protest the passing of the fly.
Whereas a failing button's not too bad,
a broken zipper leaves me high and dry,
my easy-going nature goes awry.
A sticking zip's a thing that makes me mad.
I must protest the passing of the fly.
My zip derails, my wife lets out a sigh,
my children get embarrassed for their dad.
A broken zipper leaves me high and dry.
Can't close the gap, no matter how I try;
fair maidens see me blush and think me sad;
I must protest the passing of the fly.
Those teeth that nip the skin have made me cry,
I should have kept my old pants. Wish I had;
a broken zipper leaves me high and dry.
Four buttons out of five, and I'll get by;
it's buttons every time for me, my lad.
I must protest the passing of the fly;
a broken zipper leaves me high and dry.
|
