You married too old
From what I’ve been told
If you want a baby
The prognosis is maybe
A woman your age
Has lost half her eggs
He’s wasted his sperm
‘Tween too many legs
You’ll pray for a miracle
Like a flower from god
Desperation’s the seed
Blind hope is the sod
Even if you succeed
It won’t come out right
It’ll pet kittens too hard
It’ll hold rabbits too tight
The best years behind you
The worst ones are ahead
You’ll silently hate each other
Until one of you’s dead
Sure, the marriage was bad
The orgasms were forced
But the retard was glad
His folks never divorced.
