I  correlated love with pain
Until the day I rode the train

A rainy day to say the least
Dripping water from on high
Ruined hair, which once was greased
drenched me so, infect me nigh

Hath, stumbled on a slippery slope
Covers shield me, in such pleasantry
Ethereal eyes look up in enormous hope
Thy father told thou of such husbandry

Female or Male, doth not matter
Rescuer true in great virtue
Flowing hair makes one gladder
As I bid the maiden adieu

I raise myself from the stone
and walk beside my hero true
the maiden of gossamer tone
that rescued the man of Montague

As we wait for the train to arrive
my palms grow wetter each time I blink
In the lord’s name have I strived
but comes sweat when of her I think

She urges me to accompany her to a bar
Where we sit and begin to drink
Guffaw laughs and hars
Of Montague and a lady in pink

Laughs become wicked smiles
Crows scourer and dogs bark
Sleep on me luggage piles
Because I missed the witches mark