In front of her plenty of sweets
That she doesn't eat
She says it would store in my ass
And for that reason I must pass
Always loud and sitting to my left
With her head-sets on,
Resigning for me is all that's left
A good listener so to her I open up
But slow in typing I should have just shut up
She speaks to me in French
How sad, to a wall it would have made more sense
Always nagging, so collection is her job
Customers pay cause now we look like a mob
At first she used to crumble talking to Tahsin
Now poor him what a MISKEEN
What bothers her now is Kishor
Leaving collections everyday at her door
Its only a matter of time when he asks for more
She is going to stick them up his floor
Built up her husband is tall
Seem so tough, I think she sees him small
I asked the doctor of my symptoms
She is bad for your health he says
Yet loving and caring she is giving
The best of her we are all admitting
