For Thou Love Is Like A Bucket Of Chicken

If there was any doubts in your mind, any reason that you or I,
Should wish to leave, or feel the need to cry.

Then I'll give you the excuse to stay. Why we're meant to be.

And that reason quite simply is..... K.F.C.

Now, I know you're thinking, "Love?....Greasy chicken?"
But there's more to that tasty white meat than just finger lickin'.
It's a romantic gesture, the sharing of a meal,
A whoosh of ecstacy, the loving couple do feel.
If you decided one day to say, "That's it, I'm off. Fuck it."
You would then see my heart kick the bargain bucket.
I can't go to a drive-thru & order the family feast alone,
"Ha that fat bastard's so greedy! Ordered enough for 2, but he's on his own!"
The spotty foreign teenager behind the counter would say.

And everyone would peer out the window as I drove up to pay.

I would eat the cold chicken and it would take me hours & hours,

Not even that secret recipe coating, though so delicious, would heal my scars.

But if you were with me, I could drive up with pride,

We'd order our bucket then we'd go for a ride.

Drive up Scrabo hill, overlooking the sea,

I'd feed you & you'd feed me.

We'd eat that chicken right down to the bone,

And we'd be so happy because we weren't alone.

We'd share the gravy & dip our chips,

Then use that funny wipe to clean our lips.

You'd do a wee burp & I wouldn't mind.

For I'd know that with the love of my life, I  had just dined.

Slurp down the coke, have a hug, steal a kiss.
Now isn't that an experience that you would surely miss?

So stop feeling so sad, stop feeling so blue,

Next time I'll even get you an ice-cream too.

I'll say, "gee whizz that was finger lickin' good!"

And you'll say, "Yep, things are lookin' good.."