In my last life I was a man
And I held it down like the bogeyman.
True to my time and true to the fashion of my days,
I stayed false to the haste and false to the passion of my nights.
I waited till the caravans came
And up I went with my dame.
To the mountains and flowery hills
To see the daffodils.
We made camp high up there closer to the skies
Surrounded by petals and fragrance and butterflies
Then I called the flutist and the lyricist
I tell them entwist and intertwist - just play.
And while my damsel basked, I reached for the basket - a ring.
And on my knee I made my plea and got me my née.
But now would you take a look!
In this current life I'm almost made to shook!
I'm still a man and I've got a dame
With whom I've been frequenting the room
And now she wants me as her groom - obviously.
And I've seen the greatest contrast in all my years
I mean, in my time, just to ask, I'd strived and got up the hills like a sheep
But all she can come up with in hers is walk up to me with a chicken bone in mouth and ask 'What's your plan for this relationship?'
