The Chemotherapy Red Blues

Woke up this morning

my face was bright red

Like an embarrassed lobster

I tried burying my head

underneath the covers 

I hid in the deep,

but those steroids are buggers

won't allow you no sleep.



So I looked in the mirror

such a terrible mistake

No amount of caked on make up

wouldn't let me fake

any near resemblance 

to a natural Caucasian 

but lucky I weren't goin' nowhere 

for no special occasion. 



Then my bloke done come home

from a day of sweat and good hard toiling

Looked me in the face and said,

Man, you must be boiling.

Then he went straight to the fridge

and downed himself two beers

Never even noticed

that I had busted out in tears.



So I went down to the fish mongers 

and walked out with another man 

He said I looked just lovely

and fine the way I am

He held my hand so kindly

in a gentle pincer grip

and we drove down to the seaside

and took a skinny dip. 



We swam and we done swam 

till I weren't red no more

Then he looked me in the eye -

said he didn't like my new pallor 

I went home but my old bloke 

never noticed I'd been gone

Only asked me - 'What's for dinner -

and it better not be long.'



Now the moral of this story

is, if your man don't like you when you're red,

dump that insensitive monster -

find you an appreciative lobster instead

Then if he gets tired of you

as he will, more like as not

bring him back on home for dinner

and serve him steaming, 

I mean dripping - (forget his infernal screaming)

finger lickin' dreaming,

gleaming, red hot from the pot.