Oh, How I Love Nice Girls
My mother always told me to keep myself nice.
And I have.
I even have, "Nice"*, biscuits with my tea.
I like being nice and I like doing what my mother tells me.
Fortunately most girls are also told to keep themselves nice.
So I immediately have rapport with nice girls.
We sit together tête-à-tête dipping our, "Nice", biscuits into our warm tea.
And the more we dip, the warmer we get.
We speak of our mothers and how much we love them and how much they love us.
Until it seems we are just as nice as one another.
"Would you care for another, "Nice", biscuit?", I ask.
"Only if you will put it to my lips", she says nicely.
Oh, how I love nice girls because before long she is putting a, "Nice", biscuit to my lips - and we give one another nice biscuits turn and turn about.
Until the world's made rosy and the world's made cosy by togetherness.
* Here, we have, "Nice", biscuits.
"Nice", is pronounced, "niece", as in the city of Nice in France.
However, "Nice", biscuits are really nice.