The Common Man

The Common Man

 by Kelp

A counter-productive member of society,
He ain’t cut out for cakes and tea.

No skills to speak of, no expertise,
Slow on the uptake, slow when he speaks.

A three of clubs in a worn-out deck.
An owner of nothing but the clothes on his back.

He hails from squalor, don’t know what’s next.
He might punch your month if you get him perplexed.

But there’s a certain type of hard-assed dame
Who can’t help but be attracted to him.

She’s got a pretty face, she could get any guy,
But he’s the one that she wants to supply.

She knows what she wants, don’t need no warranty,
She knows what she feels and she likes what she sees.

The stubble on his face, the dirt ‘neath his nails.
She don’t seem to care that he’s bound to fail.

She anyhow wants to build a life with him,
To be his wife and have children with him.

Don’t take much effort to get him on her side.
“I’m a lucky mug,” says he, as he kisses his bride.

Can they make it, these two? How long will they last?
Before their love goes sour or their dreams get smashed?

I’m not a betting man, and their odds are slim,
But I’ll put down a fiver for them to win.

Call me sentimental, but I like these two.
They’re a little like me and little like you.