Honest Bob and the Factory-to-Incentive Dealers

She's A Terrible Artist
I met her on the subway, she asked me what I do I said that I sing in a band, and she said, "Hey, I do that too!" She said her band was playing out next Tuesday at 9:00 So I went out to see her, but I was in for a shock Well, I'm no Pavarotti, but she was ten times worse And half the crowd had fled before she finished half a verse I don't want to insult her, but the girl ain't got no culture With a face like an angel and a voice like a vulture Cause she's a terrible singer, but she thinks she can sing With her voice alone she has caused untold suffering She asked me how I liked it, and I didn't say a thing She's a terrible, terrible singer, and she's mine Now the singing stuff was bad enough, but there was worse to come She painted with an arm that must have been completely numb She showed me this new landscape that she had just done with oils But it looked more like a meatloaf a couple days after it spoils Cause she's a terrible painter, but she thinks she can paint She thinks she's the next Picasso, but I can assure you that she ain't She asked me how I liked it, and I said, "I feel faint" She's a terrible, terrible painter, and she's mine I'm glad that she's the creative type Letras de cancionesAnd she expresses what's in her heart But I'd rather eat a plate of tripe Than take one more look at her art It was then that I made the worst mistake of my romantic career She asked if I wanted to read her new novel, and I said, "Absolutely, dear" She said that of all her artistic endeavors she thought this one was the best So I sat down to read it, and I think you know the rest She's a terrible writer, but she thinks she can write Against her powers, grammar and spelling can't even put up a fight She asked me how I liked it, and I said it was all right She's a terrible, terrible writer, and she's mine She's a terrible sculptor, but she thinks she can sculpt If I had my way all her papier-mâché would immediately be pulped She asked me how I liked it, and I just smiled and gulped She's a terrible, terrible sculptor, and she's mine She's a terrible dancer, but she thinks she can dance She writhes around like someone just poured pudding down her pants She asked me if I'd join her, and I said, "Not a chance" She's a terrible, terrible dancer, and she's mine She's a terrible, terrible artist, and she's mine all mine From Letras Mania