My fingers are callused enough
to omit the burning pain
for at least as long as need be.

Her smile isn't quite rough,
and with her fiery mane
she's quite the sight to see.

Nevertheless, she's better seen ****
and I don't mean to be rude,
but god her thighs are begging
to be wrapped around me.

I can taste the many years
and countless beers
on her beautiful lips
that hide the harsh truths.

So tell me dear,
what is it you fear?

That your daughter may be
more desirable than you?