She Heard it on the Radio

by Dominique Spearey

                                  I'm just a rabbit in the headlights
                                  rabbit in the headlights
                                  A rabbit in the headlights of your love.

                                  Oh the treachery of memory
                                  It gushed up good and proper
                                  Yet - when all was said and done
                                  He was nothing but a rotter.

                                  But God he was so handsome
                                  His body poured in leather
                                  His winklepickers flashing
                                  His reputation as a raver.

                                  The smell of sweat enticing
                                  As she climbed upon his bike
                                  Her hormones starting racing
                                  As they rode off in the night.

                                  She was a rabbit in the headlights
                                  A rabbit in the headlights
                                  A rabbit in the headlights of his love.

                                  But.. ..he... really.... was .. quite... grubby


                                  His nails chewed to the quick
                                  And looking back in hindsight
                                  She just loved him for his prick.

                                  Oh the treachery of memory
                                  Often leading us astray
                                  Confusing glow of headlights
                                  With the cold clear light of day.

                                  I'm not a rabbit in the headlights
                                  A rabbit in the headlights
                                  A rabbit in the headlights of your love.

She Heard it on the Radio - Dominique Spearey
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