You say that muff is holy
That penises are faulty
They leave you dry
You say I have no humour
Boys are fake and clueless
Now you’re into pie
Pawning out all your jewelry
Buying all kinds of tools
Is it Sue?
Is it Olga?
Is it Beth, Pam
Or Faye?
Never knew
That at thirty
You would tell me
You’re gay
Now you’re butch and moody
Looking like that KD
Think the last name’s Lang
Thought my ears were lying
When you asked how wide it
Is between her legs
Now you’re part of Martina’s team
And my nuts are all blue
Is it Ruth?
Is it Norma?
Is it Rose, Jen
Or Mae?
Look at you
Got a Harley
Bet the dykes are
Impressed
Solitude
Under cover
And so truly ashamed
Such a hoot
All my friends joke
That I turn women
To gay
(Now I’m screaming)
Got a text yes-ter-day
That it’s true
It’s my sister
And you’re getting married
In May
Oh mon Dieu