There will be, one day, in a small, rickety-rockety town,
a man named Thomas Crown.
Dear of heart will be he,
beautiful, brown, broken and free.
Into his life will come a vision oft not seen,
Of sweet curves, open and shut lips,
revolving heels and a rumor of easy access.
Word will be, you just got to press a button to get her going.
There was, on a day not long past,
with the same manner and cast,
a man who called himself an uncompleted half.
His baby didn’t mind him having a bit of fun,
but always knew where to draw that whispery line.
“Oh honey, can’t you come over tonight?”
Open, shut. Revolve, press a button.
Dial a tune, bad reception.
“I want to tell you something, I love-“.
Flicker, flicker, crackle crack.
A dead battery holds him back.
And then there is, a small lesson,
for all you aspiring vixens.
The easiest way to a man’s heart is
through his mobile.
Pick her up, hold her high, regard her
with just the right bit of envy,
Look into his eyes and tell him,
“I love your mobile, Thomas!”
Watch his eyes glisten, his breath draw closer,
his grip tighten on you.
Oh, and make sure you prepped yourself right.
Be prepared to show him your cute little button.