Envy Is The Road Jostled By Crabs

What does she see in this fisherman? Can't she see he's a will-o'-the-wisp? What does she see in him an old man? Tattooed—sun-baked and burnt to a crisp. Netting shrimps & crabs, catching the breeze Bronze tanned the colour of autumn leaves. Does she think he's some, kind of merman? … At the drop of a hat—gone are her panties. Guess I'm a jack pike a young salmon. Does he sing her some old sea shanties? I guess the likes of me - are small fry; I'm glad—who am I to objectify. Envy is the road jostled by crabs, 'Look sees' I've got more meat on my claws With a much younger mate! Keeping tags It's just the same as drawing short straws Being well matched 'now that's the best catch'. Maybe that's why he isn't too, well thatched.