I want to go home, I'm done with desert.
And I'm done with my dinner, and done with you, Bert.
I've endured your company, laughed at your jokes;
But there'll be no goodnight kiss; I won't meet your folks.
All the time at the restaurant I watched other men,
And vowed to myself we'd not go out again.
My head's started aching; it's getting quite late,
So I think that it's time that we wrap up this date.
You're fairly attractive, you make lots of money,
You're kind, and you're smart, and I think that you're funny.
And yet I can't stand it; I'm sorry, dear Bert,
But your pink sequined blouse just does not match your skirt.
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