A busy man, a real nice gent.
Its often said of me.
Hard working and of good intent.
I would not disagree.

My work is of such an importance.
Skilled beyond my years am I.
Requiring such diligence.
Without that, many poor could die.

Skill is gained by repetition.
Practice must be sought.
My weekend is an expedition.
Where ladies of the night are bought.

In the darkness no applause.
An operation I attend.
Lying here without her drawers.
Her life suddenly at end.

I only take the parts I need.
That’s all I ever do
I am not here to sow my seed.
To my wife I am true.

But dangers lurk round every bend.
They have it in for me.
And so this exercise must end.
So much for liberty.