Love is a funny thing.
One day I gave my love a pickle, she looked at me and said
"Why'd you get me dill, you know I like them sweet"
So I pulled out a hatchet, and severed one of her feet.
Then one day, I gave my love a ring
She looked at me funny, so I gave her neck a wring.
I cannot fathom how, or why I feel this way.
But all I know is that it beats the fuck out of being gay.