They tell me I'm a phony
but over just a sandwich,
that's baloney!
A mustard pimento fallacy
and my bread has gotten soggy.
You tell me I'm not a savory lover,
but your Baby, Please! ? has gotten stale,
I work like a toaster to please you,
so why don't you scrape off the crust?
and dust off that negligee,
stop makin' so many sandwiches
and love me!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem