A treasure from times past

Thanks, Q-dawg, aka "Mark Wilson"

Don't Worry Baby

My soul is repentant and I feel real bad.

I said what I oughtn't and mommy is mad.

I spoke of our love and the birds and the bees.

Now I am down on my hands and my knees.

At night I am lonely and the dog house roof leaks.

This celibacy stinks and I feel like the Meeks.

Please let me return back in your good graces.

I won't speak of zygotes, of bums or your places.

I've learned my lesson and I've learned it well.

I don't want to get banished to what rhymes with Kel.

See, I refrained from my cussing,though it was hard.

And I feel like a man, like Jean-Luc Picard.

So I ask that you reach down deep, to your toes,

Forgive me my weaknesses, my smell and my nose.

And know that I love you although I am rough.

Composed of dead bugs, poopoo logs and crude stuff.