Chores I Abhore 

Vacuuming is one chore
That I abhore
To stay in bed and snore
Is what I adore.

House cleaning and its lore
Has nevermore 
Repulsed me.
I ain't no Mr. Clean-

You know what I mean?
This is one scene
That I want to split-
Splat and I'm done

With it.
And all domesticity 
Hangs in the balance
Between heaven and hell-

And my new found belle
Ain't too fond of the smell.
So what the hell
Clean up this mess-

I might as well.

Tittle-tattle
Willy-waddle
Has it that I'm 
Back in the saddle

Riding high 
And living clean
Oh, my-I sigh
What does this mean?

I'm off to a good start
But then lay a fart
So me and my tart
Are now far apart.

She was fickle
As a pickle
To her name not a nickel
Had one pot to piss in-

Her ride?
An old bicycle!

Built for two
She wasn't 
And though a rank beginner
At least I got in 'er.