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Liz

Youíre needy and distracted,
And your speech is so protracted
It sounds like you never know what to say
Until youíve said it.
Then you regret it,
And weíre back to square one,
With your apologies,
And silly laugh, and drifting eyes,
And that speech impediment
You call an accent.

Youíre sulky and defensive,
And youíd probably pass for pensive
If you were smart enough to have a clue
What pensive meant.
Well, Iíd relent
And stop telling you these things
That you donít want to hear,
But Iím your friend and we both know
That plain girls donít get anywhere
With just their smile.

You need a make-up artist
(heíd have to be an artist
Or an executioner)
To do something with your face.
You know you really shouldnít frown,
Everyone looks worse with their head hung down,
And you know I only ever mean
What I say
When Iím laughing
To take the sting of truth away.
I tell you I love you that way,
Shaking close to tears,
And Plato would be proud of me,
If he could see my soul instead of you.

Your kindly and contented,
And youíre always sweetly scented,
And youíre always, always, always around
With your cigarettes
And silly bets
On things bore us
Without a quarter-deck
On the line so we can pretend
We donít have a free run
Of this boring world.

Iím honest and loquacious -
Iíve got a way with words -
I get my way with words,
And keep on talking
Until Iím back to square one,
With my apologies,
And honest laugh, and solemn jokes,
And that speech impediment
You call not knowing
When I should shut up.


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