Fussily he figures, that’s not good enough for him Excessively high standards got his best, and then Contempt for average qualities; things he had abhorred Became almost everything, as he always needed more
His code of behavior, to one, might seem ideal Criterion of excellence would show at every meal Fork, knife and spoon oh-so polished, and set precisely All a fanciful show, and done so ever nicely
Particular attention to each and every detail In acquisition of mate, indisputably he’d fail For who could ever live up to these extreme conventions? Or be it prissy of me, to mention these intensions?
Mr. Fastidious to some, might seem the status quo A state in which display, is an always-complex show Fail not to follow all rules, as they are set to be Or you might dine alone, a wordy one like me