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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dAsCxo0N3FI&feature=youtu.be

Like Pink Panther putting on normal panther camouflage,
or a Goth record with a lipstick autograph;
a crow and a flamingo mingling at a birdbath;
or Bret ‘The Hitman’ Hart’s leotard:

pink ‘n’ black is my heart
since we did part, since we did part.
Pink! Coz it feels so raw.
Black! Rotten to the core.
Love is a doubled-edged sword
on which my heart, heart's been gored.

Like a baby born on the bonnet of a hearse,
or anachronistic candyfloss on the teeth of Liz the 1st;
an unturned chipolata, top raw, bottom burnt,
or your girlish mirth when I am at my worst:

pink ‘n’ black is my heart
since we did part, since we did part.
Pink! Coz it feels so raw.
Black! Rotten to the core.
Love is a doubled-edged sword
on which my heart,  heart's been gored.

Like the lungs of a nico-tween puffing past a pack-year;
the highlight in Heathcliff’s hair when Cathy drove him queer;
coconut rolls from liquorice allsorts, but not the black ’n’ yeller.
Or my broken heart so terminally tender.

The two tones of good old-fashioned rock ’n’ roll,
sang Johnny Teardrop on his Les Paul,
or was it a Fender ?
And is blue the true interior of a heart tore asunder?

— The End —