A girl called Bernadette

I met a girl called Bernadette
And now I’m really glade we’ve met
‘Cause she really intrigues me
And what that is what I like in a girl, see!

I know she’ll probably think this poem’s dumb
But it is the fault of her…
‘Cause when I see them, my brain goes numb.
(-Because they don’t look like washing pegs!)

Why am I writing this poem?
I don’t know either: but just wait:-
Maybe she and I will set up Home
If she turns out to be the ideal mate.

This is the end of the lyric
And to be quit honest, it is quite sick.

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