Love's Labour's Lost (Him & Her)

You didn’t nag when I met yer so why do you nag now?
Every time I talk of sex you act like some old cow,
If you don’t want to shag me, just say so then I’ll know,
Don’t lie there huddled in a ball, curled lip and furrowed brow

You used to be so tender, when we made love you’d cry
Now you’re never interested, you just don’t even try
You stare in stoney silence if you speak it's just to say
'Please don’t try for sex tonight there’s just no friggin’way'

‘I’ve got a head that aches a lot my piles are hurting bad
Big flannel nightie hides your arse it's enough to drive me mad
Now we’ve been wed and shared a bed these fifteen years or more
When we met you were a virgin now you act just like a whore

'Take me to the Costa Lott then we’ll have sex’ you say
‘Otherwise just zip your flies, no holiday, no play’
I work my fingers to the bone I graft by day and night
But when I need a bit of loving we end up in a fight,

You’ve let your waistline grow so fat, your tits they hang low down
Your face sags like a tire that’s burst, you wear enough paint for a clown
You blame me then for getting drunk and staying out all night
All I want is a bit more sex then we’d get on all right

But still I want you baby with all my heart and soul
I need to slide my willie into your gaping hole
I want to hold your sagging tits, to feel your flabby bum
To hear you cry and call my name when I make you come

But you just lie there darling, snoring like a horse
You don’t even dream of having sex, balls to intercourse
Should you ever ask for it then darling to be frank
I’ll say piss off I’ve had enough I’d rather have a wank!’



Her Reply

When first we wed and went to bed you were so slim and fit
Now you’re just a whining slob I don’t fancy you a bit
Your breath it smells of beer and cigs it really makes me sick
You want me give blow jobs but you never wash your dick

Your arse it sags like two old prunes your legs are bent and bowed  
What once got hard is now like lard and rarely shoots its load
I’m supposed to act real passionate when you come home pissed
And forget your smelly arm pits, pretend I’m longing to be kissed

I’ve been faking orgasms for the last ten years or more
When it comes to making love my dear you really are a bore
It only last two minutes then you roll away and sleep
And I’m supposed to love it? It’s enough to make me weep

You never take me anywhere for a meal or the odd night out
Just sit there watching tele, shout at the football like a lout
Do I still love you darlin'? I really don’t think so
If it wasn’t for the children I’d have left you long ago

You preen before the mirror try to suck your belly in
You’ve no chance husband darling you’ll ne’er again be thin
You think young girls still fancy you, that really is a joke
They laugh to hide embarrassment you’re just a daft old bloke

So all-in-all dear husband you can bless your luck
That you get fed, have a nice warm bed and a monthly fuck
I’ll put up with you ‘til the kids are gone, oh speed that joyful day
Then you can pack your bags my dear and on yer fuckin’ way!