Oh, London’s lovely Linda, <br />I’m a giver, not a lender <br />And I want to give you everything I’ve got. <br />You see, my luscious Linda, <br />You singe my being to a cinder <br />For every time you’re near me I get hot. <br /> <br />I’m not implying simple yearning, <br />I’m talking downright nasty burning <br />And I’m sure that you can see it in my eyes <br />Now you’re gone, my stomach’s churning <br />Oh my God, I must be learning, <br />You’re a devil behind that beautiful disguise. <br /> <br />Still, that doesn’t change the way I’m feeling, <br />My poor love-sick head is reeling <br />And it’s been doing that from the very start <br />Lovely Linda now I’m kneeling, <br />You must have a touch for stealing, <br />For I tell you now, my love, you stole my heart.<br /><br />Michael Troy Buffo<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/london-s-lovely-linda/
