Bathsheba, Bathsheba, she baths, she baths with me,

And meets me midway when it comes to my ceramic fantasies,

In domestic seas, it seems, we have no time nor need for reality,

Just stick with me.

 

“Four legs good! Two legs bad!”, all’s well that ends well in our animal fun farm,

So let us make oodle-canoodle soup, darling,

Mixing and mingling in our melting

Pot, tub, but top and tailing makes for the most beauteous broth!

 

Bathsheba, Bathsheba, she baths, she baths with me,

And let’s me play Uriah the Hittite for the night,

Just to whet the appetite, ’til David pulls the plug on all that’s right,

Is she sick of me?

 

“I haven’t the foggiest, love!”, but feel foggy and faint at the idea,

Lavender-smelling salts were made for girls like her,

Oh! She’s a knockout, knickerbocker evening glory,

Holy smokes! So hot you’d only dip a toe, don’t risk the whole foot!

 

Bathsheba, Bathsheba, she baths, she baths with me,

And face-to-face, side-by-side, we try to make room to moor this ship,

Just don’t throw a spanner in the works, no wrench for this sorry wretch

And already sunken shipwreck,

Please, come sink with me.