He seemed unhappy
Discontent with his life
Much of his angst
Aimed at me
his poor wife
And then he confessed
Our sex life's no good
When we do it
Could you moan
Or say something rude
I nodded, agreed
To that which he said
He whistled
With joy
As he took me to bed
I lay on my back
Like a latter day saint
As he got into his swing
I nodded at the roof
That needs re-plastered and maybe some paint...
