The Poor Bastard

Love, I found it once
With a sweet little woman
Who packed a big punch
Her lips were hot as a brandin’ iron
She was a package of pure desire
Hair was golden, shiny like a sea of glass
Eyes beautiful, bottomless and blue
Long lean legs right up to her ass
She was someone you knew you shouldn’t touch
But like wet paint, you just had too

Once she has you
You are caught like a fish in a net
It’s always about her
And what it is she can get
Selfish, spoiled, snobbish and rude
She never gives out her heart
Too consumed in herself and in using you
When you manage to break the spell, she has conjured
She will laugh in your face and find another poor bastard to conquer