Predators

Predators

He walked into the party like he was walking onto a yacht.
I caught his eye, he leered and sneered, but there is something he forgot.
His shame, his pride, his bigotry, going home with me he was not.

Try he would and try again to dazzle me with his repertoire.
Yet his face is seen on every scene and … bar.
His used and abused lines were not going to get him far.
Tonight he was definitely not coming to my boudoir.

That’s a sexy dress your wearing, it would look even better on my bedroom floor.
His fixed stare at my breasts chilled me to the core.

Hi I am Mr Right; my friend told me you were looking for me!
Yeah if I wanted a David Hasselhoff wannabe.

What screws like a tiger and winks?
A bolshy twat methinks.

Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?
Please tell me this place shuts by eleven!

He said with little guilt or strife,
You’re so lovely I might even leave me wife.

I may not be Fred Flintstone but I can make your bedrock!
Will these cartoon metaphors never stop!

You’ll never find anyone better tonight than me.
What with your tired jokes and possible STD’s.

You might as well sleep with me, because I will tell my mates anyway.
This is enough to turn any self-respecting girl gay.

Then he gave a final play, I am drummer in a band you know.
I found myself thinking that I should give him a go.

Oh the frailties of being a predator and being easily led,
As I find myself waking up in Mr Vain’s bed.