Why don't you get a bigger set of tits?

[From The Jock Cheese Platter, lyrics by HBF and RHB. Possible the only known case in history of the drummer getting to put one over on the bass player.]

Kerry, dear,
I importune you -
Be not so distant, nor so cold:
A woman scorned might, as you do,
Such frosty gaze for so long hold.
But I am your true devotee,
Who nightly, always, sees your face -
Could you gaze so when you see me?
Does not my self that look erase?
“Women!”, men say, “just can’t trust her” -
In smoky bars men yell, “Your shout”;
Four pots later, one will mutter:
“Can’t live with 'em; can’t live without.”
Kerry, dear, I know this doctrine,
Heard in change rooms, crude and loose -
Seen a footy player winkin’ -
“Fellas, I gave her God’s own juice.”
Surely, dear, you cannot believe me
Such a one as these brutish men?
They know of girls - but can’t you see
They know not thus of real women?
Yet so unmoving still you sit:
Dimpled chin, a noble lion -
Pausing to note with green felt tip -
Oh, my flame: Kerry O’Brien.
Kerry, dear, there is no other
Who I could ever compare thee:
Hear my plea, oh distant lover:
I’m yours forever,
Wayne Carey.


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