Pretty things, pretty thing…

These things are pretty
These things are not
You hum like a tweety
When I give you a song,
You’re one of the first,
Not of the latter,
But anyway, it doesn’t kill my thirst
For you, heh,
It does not matter,
You hum for other ears,
For fun and the non existence of tears
Honey, that’s not me,
“Don’t you know that I belong arm in arm with you baaaaaby”
But only on a sunny day,
Honey, the crying game is “we”,
Nevertheless, all the same, whatever, and by the by,
A pretty thing,
A humming bird,
A Delilah crazy for hair,
You’re the heiress to my air,
You’re the would be mother of my heir,
You’re the pretty girl… this poorly rhymed song,
Was sung to…