It's such a happy homely brand,

such a loving hand to hold.

Nothing says "forced adoration" quite the same

as an overpriced printed bit of Hallmark card.

 

Though I came in drunk last night

and all we've done is fight,

and we haven't actually spoken for a week,

this greeting card's designed to wipe out

all the battle lines and it's guaranteed

an armistice today.

 

The poem in it's shitty,

the romancing is pithy,

but I covered it in kisses

so I know that you'll forgive me

cos it promises the moon and earth and stars.

 

I got an M&S meal cos I can't be arsed to cook,

and I might be on a promise for a Valentine's fuck,

showing willing with the roses and the fizz.

A tenner on a ready meal,

a helium balloon;

surely that's enough to earn a jizz?

 

And how about a teddy?

A fluffy wuffy bear,

with a heart as big as China on the front

(and on the tag)?

Or a Moonpig tailor-made,

saying stuff I never say,

to show that I'm not really such a cunt.

 

Happy Valentine's my love!

Now let's get drunk!