Today

It’ll cost ya lad, what ya want
Triple what it cost last month.
Quadruple what you make a day,
Thirty-five counting lingerie.

They say, ‘Love is priceless, true and rare,
Don’t matter you’re not a millionaire.’
But love has many hidden costs,
Pricetags aplenty to your loss.

So grit your teeth and swipe your card,
Purchase flowers and win her heart;
Or coat in honey the sweetest rhyme,
“I’m sorry hon, Overtime.”