Mud-wrestling the bride Lamenting loud and wide All of the stuff implied: The wax, the weed, the cyanide No bruises that will show And still an inner glow But still you do not know: The flak, the fuel, the quid-pro-quo All the little secrets and the toys All the little tricks that . time destroys Don't bother me so much I tell you such Such are the Joys The liquids that remain The Armagnac and rain Leave quite a livid stain (I will not bother to explain) These ample plates of food This quite delicious mood There's no need now to brood On things with wings and attitude All the recreation and the noise All the little tricks the flesh employs: You say they are a crutch But I tell you such. Such are the Joys Me and my anima Try to examine her: Her core, her lamina Her lips, her locks, her stamina The AmDram in the rain The melancholy Dane These tableaux will remain And animate the helpless brain There is a vast supply Of things that dream and die And couple up and cry Beneath a katabatic sky Some shabby revelry This low spec devilry: Not what I'd thought would be The Photoshop that rendered me. If some of your illusions Start to annoy: Have a little word: Send round the Boys Innocent as such Quite sticky to touch .Such are the Joys Innocent as such. .Such are the Joys