I can lie to you
and you know I will
“well, he’s only a man.”
I’m a man
though doubtless,
some would dispute that fact
they say
well he ain’t tough enough
try the sensitive poet
and that just don’t
cut the mustard around here
and then you,
ha, then you, my sweet angel
will leap to my defense
in spite my lies
and all my bloody flaws
my callous little white fibs
that annoy you so
but you’ve learned to tolerate
because—well—because
that’s just the way I am
and just the way
you’ve learned to love me for.