Poor Old Gold Digger

Burt’s eighty three and I’m twenty two
I’m not a gold digger, honest it’s true,
He asked me out on a date
When his chauffeur turned up I knew it was fate.

I know he’s older, it isn’t a sin
When I saw is mansion I knew I’d move in,
On the first date he called me honey,
That did it for me it wasn’t the money.

He said “I have some space free in my life,
Do you like me enough to become my wife?”
“I have to think let me see
How about tomorrow I think I’m free”.

“Summon the vicar to the estate
To read the vows and not be late,”
“I could love you Bert, I’m feeling just fine
What’s mine will be yours, and yours will be mine.”

After three days the wedding was done
I looked after him, at first it was fun.
I went out shopping bought lots of things
Like furs, cars and diamond rings.

He got so bored at home on his own
So when I went out I’d call his phone,
But every time that I got back
He’d be a sleep in the sack.

I made him happy I’m not a bitch
But when I got married I knew I’d be rich,
So I was there spending my life
Sitting back and being his wife.

I just got back, went through the front door
To find him lying flat on the floor,
They took him away, and then I knew
The world’s my oyster what would I do?

Could this be it? Just a matter of time
“I love you Bert is the money all mine?
I will be brave, I’ll try not to cry
Tell me doctor is he going to die?”

“Don’t be silly, he’ll be OK
He’s just passed out, he’s drunk I’d say,
He’s the fittest man I ever did see,
He’ll probably live to one hundred and three.”

WHAT!

© written by me …… Tracey Curtis.. 5119