©2003 Ekendra Dasa
Well, my woman done left me, left me nothin but dirty dishes
And I seen it comin’- seen it comin’ apart at the stitches.
She had looks like Greta Garbo, a left hook like Smokin’ Joe,
And a heart like one o’ them black hat-and-broom-flyin’ witches.
Now, I grew up thinkin’: “It’s such a fine thing to get shot by Cupid.”
But any wise man knows – somethin’ in them arrows sure makes you stupid.
I coulda been a Ph.D in math but that woman crossed my path,
And to my chagrin, I turned right into a poop-head.
‘Cause it’s a fool maker, hits you like a fifth of liquor
Turns you into a chump, then it’s a skip and a jump to the undertaker.
They call it “fallin’ in love.” Well, whatever I fell off of,
I’m gettin’ right back on it.
Doggone it, I just can’t take another heartbreaker.
Now, I seen that woman off with another love drunk daddy.
She had a mink coat, diamond rings, sittin’ in a brand new Caddy.
She was spendin’ all of his dough. I stepped up and said, “Hello.”
I shook his hand, I said, “Man, you got to be batty.”