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Darling Cinderella
Darling Cinderella; you want that perfect man;
A ripple chested heart throb who can open any can?
To mow the lawn and tune your car and fill your arms with roses;
Buy you diamonds, write you poems, and paint your little toeses?
The envy of your girlfriends, who chaffeurs you around;
From mall to mall and loads the trunk with all the things you’ve found?
Who will recall your birthday, but not, alas, your age;
Knows your favorite perfume; and your menstral stage.
A guy who’ll clean the bathtub, and kiss your mudpacked face;
Help you pick out wallpaper, and start the fireplace.
He must be good at backrubs, and finding misplaced keys;
Digging holes for gardens, and dancing until three.
He comes with tools and ladders, a paintbrush and knife;
Not cats, or dogs, or golf bags -- in fact, no former life.
As comfy with a baby, as a snub nose .38;
Who’ll order wine in perfect French, and wait when you are late!
To bed you when you're in the mood, without a hesitation;
Performing feats deserving of a standing ovulation.
Who makes a fluffy omelet; and perks a decent brew;
And opts to stay at home with you to nurse you through the flu.
He must read maps and blueprints; the Wall Street Journal too;
And if you choke on escargo, he must know what to do!
Who’ll never fart, or break your heart, or hollar at your mother;
Cheat or lie, or make you cry, or one day find another.
Well my dear, let’s stop right here, because you are mistaken
The good guys are still out there—they haven’t all been taken!
They’re not booked, they’re overlooked, by ladies with a list!
That pass the guy who's quiet and shy, and know not what they've missed!
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