Average blokes wonder what my secret is
I'm not handsome or a brilliant scientist
But when I start to tell them
They say 'Swivel on this! '
I say
It's in the glint of my smile
The quickness of quip
The laugh in my voice
My shoulderless chip
I'm a Bloke
Pheromonally
Pheromonal Bloke
Yup. That's me.
Women themselves have wondered
What they see in me
They laugh so much
But don't want to touch
My odd asymmetry
When I try to show them
They usually flee
I say
It's in my lunchpack
My bum and my piles
The size of my chutzpah
The depth of my guile
I'm a Bloke
Pheromonally
Pheromonal Bloke
Yup. That's me.
Now you understand
Why my head isn't brown
I don't gossip or bugger about
Or run my mates down
When you see me passing
Go up-wind, not down
I say
It's in the size of my Wheels
The lack of brown hair
The pint in my hand
The fact I'm 'in care'
'Cause I'm a Bloke
Pheromonally
Pheromonal Bloke
Yup. That's me.
(Maya, if you read this I'm not sorry because imitation IS the sincerest form of compliment.)
If you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it - go and have a shower.
Martin O'Neill
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pheromonal-bloke/
