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Why WILL The Girls Refuse? - Parody

Why will the girls refuse, mamma,
why will the girls refuse?
For every time one turns me down
I throw a fit of blues.
how can a guy go gad about
with no-one to amuse,
when each proposal meets with frown –
some clues, mamma, your views?

Why can’t they be content, mamma,
when taken out to dine
to Fred’s fine fish and chip bazaar
with water ‘stead of wine, -
it went down well with you and pa
before the parking fine,
so if we walk – no need for car –
why will Miss Prissy whine?

I’m sure I’ve done my best, mamma,
to keep them at my heels,
and yet if ever we’re alone
each wretched creature squeals
should I embrace a funny bone
or wonder what conceals
the iron curtain of a bra
which never one unpeels.

I only weigh five hundred pounds
must wait grow hand in hand
with weight whence maestro singer's sounds
are heard throughout the land?
And why on Earth must out of bounds
my girth appear? I'm grand,
although I cannot ride to hounds -
why won't ONE understand?

I’m only fifty-four, mamma,
I long for one sure fling, -
if plastic painted proper shines
why won’t one wear my ring?
I’ve duly learned my deaf-dumb signs
so studiously to bring
a new dimension to my lines –
each answers sharply, stings.

I try to psycho-analyse
the promises unkept,
I’ve kept my privates undersize
well hidden though I wept.
I’ve tried ignoring petty lies,
ate humble pies, and yet
I wait for one who ‘yes! ’ replies
to sighs none intercept...

I've tried to post on Internet
in I.M., verse, and prose,
I've tried to run a contest yet,
though they queue up in rows
for pointless points they hedge their bet,
whenever I propose
they shy off even distance pet,
communication close.

If one's invited to a bar
there's someone else she'd choose.
Some say I seem far too bizarre
no socks and two left shoes,
tied up with string from old guitar, -
it cost too much to lose, -
while last semester's hershey bar
their judgement must confuse.

Why will the girls refuse, Mamma,
why will the girls refuse?
when shy it doesn't get me far,
when bold they blow a fuse!
when no holds barred the siren car
my motives may accuse,
and when I wish on shooting star
they still, they still refuse!

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