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My love is like that funny smell
Behind the cupboard in the hall.
I bleach, and scrub, and air it well;
It doesn’t get it out at all.
My love is like my cactus plant
(Unwanted gift): I try and try
To kill it with neglect. I can’t.
The hairy thing just will not die.
My love is like a ball and chain;
A plague of greenfly, or of fleas;
A salesman; a persistent stain;
A quite embarrassing disease.
I’ve done my best. It just won’t do.
I guess you’d say I’m stuck on you.