Love, like jazz, is something I’ve never braved,
It’s never been in my bracket.
Never been tempted, never been close-shaved –
Whatever, I’m happy to lack it.
But you demand my offbeat soul be saved,
And freed from its long-sleeved jacket –
Assuming me as crippled and enslaved,
Or thinking I just can’t hack it.
But I have all the fellowship I craved,
Without it costing a packet –
So love, like jazz, has passed me by unscathed,
In all its faff and racket.