Based on Ireland 1971
You asked for a date
And I said “Listen, mate,
On the chart of sweethearts
I’m afraid you don’t rate.
You may laugh, here’s a graph,
Shows the best men of all
It’s a fact, true enough
You don’t feature at all.”
“Yes, I’m short and I’m grey
And I know I look weak
But I’m begging you, please,
will you give me a week?
I’ll be tough, mark my words
I’ll be brave without fear
Every day I will show
I’m the toughest round here.”
Monday, you went to the dentist
Wouldn’t be anaesthetised
Tuesday, the bees were all stinging you
You pushed your face in their hive
Wednesday, you bought red-hot chillies
Rubbed all the juice in your eyes
Thursday, a fight in the street late at night
And you finished up with two black eyes
You’d been brave, it was true
I was almost impressed
But suggested to you
That you give it a rest
But you felt on a roll
And you said you preferred
Being so tough, rough and tough
How very absurd
Friday, the weather was freezing
You ran outside in the buff
Saturday, spent the day screaming,
Grunting, and macho-like stuff
Sunday you swam in the ocean
Challenged a shark to a race
You didn’t laugh when it bit you in half
And devoured the smile off your face
How you tried, now you’ve died,
And you proved you had balls
But the tough guy lifestyle
Didn’t suit you at all
So a word for the wise
My advice to all men:
Don’t try to prove that you’re tough -
Pretend.