He is a gentle, lonely man
Looking for love
But willing to accept
company, and comfort.
He is crying alone, now,
In a vast and empty bed
Having said goodbye to another someone
Twelve hours later than advisable.
Those transient lovers
Are always impressed with his beautiful house,
His designer bed, with Harrods sheets
Everything white, and the best of the best.
He tells them he's an architect, and it shows
In the immaculacy,
But last night he took home a builder
To ***** and rumple those pristine sheets,
And he wished for an excuse to knock through the walls
And tear it all down,
So he could keep him, to rebuild.