"I should have known by these doves",
he told himself,
"they seemed faintly familiar"
like a melody youve heard and try to forget
and did with mild success.
Since boys don't love doves
like nuns do
or other doves are apt to.
doves dont ride motorcycles
or spit, or play with cars,
and they won't grow up and end up in bars
hittin on people who do love doves.
but our hero was;
(and that's why we're here)
and his heart and his eyes and his words
mixed with the beer
stunted the fear that he knew he should have
talking, as he was, with a girl, like he did,
who had such a body, and pizazz, and class
and a boyfriend