“O Daddyji”: The Ballad of the Forlorn Men

There’s a tear in my beer
‘cause I’m crying for you, dear
you are in my lonely mind.
   Hank Williams, Jr.

O Daddyji, o daddyji, they don’t just laff these aurat-log,
they laugh at us, they do, they do
Its worse, its worse, its so much worse
They slurp their beer, they do, they do

Where is that simper-smile I love to love
the well-taught girl, the turtle dove,
Not this monstrous laff, this ha-ha-ho
this saying, piss off, I don’t care, jaisa bhi ho

Us menfolk with the big chesties
get the tiny, shivering, crawling willies
when we see those teeth unfurled
the head thrown back, the lips uncurled

And the sound, that sound, that breaks all bounds
That aha-ha-ha-HA-HA-HA
The crinkled eyes, and heaving breath
Daddyji, they scare me half to death

And then the beer, oh dear, oh dear
the dimpled glass, the froth so high
the bottle top so confidently chugged
No wonder us little mens are bugged

But it’s worse, it’s worse, O Daddyji
Just consider, the lack of boundaree
Pub or parliament, club or home
Every place now is now a laffing zone
Eeesh—far worse, a laffing and a quaffing zone

O Daddyji, O daddyji, o take me home
O give us back our little boyzone!

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Veer Sickularus Written by:

Veer Sickularus is a retired revolutionary. This is his 47th poem.

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