Gorrillas in the Mist

My darling
My dearest
He is a master of deception
But a champion of stupid
He has a silver tongue
But a brass jaw
A head full of hair
Concealing the devil’s workshop
And the slop at the door
He speaks like an angel
As treacherous as a bat on a journey back to hell
His mind is a beautiful thing
But his soul is an empty shell
My darling
My dearest
He used to be on my wish list
But alas, he is a gorilla in the mist