Somewhere a soldier
Sits drinking his Folger's
And wondering what words would rhyme
With "desert" and "sandstorm"
And "al-Muqdadiya"
And he hopes his mail gets home on time
The green-helmeted Packer
Feels instead like a slacker
When for his wife he writes a new song to sing
He's attempting to show her
He's still a romantic feller
Though he wears that huge Super Bowl ring
Brain-tired and weary
The writer will fear he
Has nothing new or inspiring to say
But he'll still sit at his desk
As his scattered mind frets
Over saying "love" in an original way
The bloke and the gringo
From Pedro to Ringo
Face the same formidable chore
Of experiencing their umpteenth
February Fourteenth
While feeling unable to say more
Than "I love you my dear
Even more than last year"
Without sounding like a terrible bore
One guy decides it's too hard
So he will look for a card
That expresses his love for her better
Than he thinks that he could
(Although she wishes he would)
By simply just writing a letter
Men can compose eloquent phrases
To describe NASCAR races
Who won and why we can explain
But putting feelings into words
Is worse than 200 mph curves
In Indianapolis in heavy rain
So in Love Letter races
It's time that we face it -
Most will never reach Victory Lane
Some men, at wit's end,
Will decide not to pen
Their lady some lame-sounding jingle
They exclaim with a sigh
"Now, I finally figured why
That Saint Valentine dude died while still single.
