If your average man
When writing a girl
And putting his paper to pencil
Professes his love is "too wondrous for words,"
Then mark my advice and my counsel:
His flattering pleas
Are not worth a reply
Though he blush while he stammers and stutters
If he cannot find words to say just what he means,
Then his mind is all berries and butters.
But if by some chance
Or strange circumstance
Some fellow should bore you with speeches,
Detailing his fancies in ongoing rants
All of daisies and jewels and peaches,
Don't feel you must listen
To all of his drab,
Though his mind may be built like a castle;
For the fact is his heart is all cardboard and crabs
And such fellows are nothing but hassle.
A fellow, it’s true
Who means nothing to you
Neither blushes, nor rants of his passion
Should never be sought, but be quickly forgot
Like a hat that has gone out of fashion
You'll know the right one
By his heart and his tongue,
Brimming over with feeling and praises
And though he may stammer and stutter at times
You’ll find joy in his thoughts and his gazes.
