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Rex, the Manly Painter
If you are feeling crook, or low,
Just take a Wombat or a Bex
But there remains one fact, you know:
Art really matters more than sex.
When heaven’s door is firmly shut
And waves are crashing on our decks
A snuggle would be lovely, but
Art really matters more than sex.
Although there lurks beyond this chat
Our meeting of warm lips, or necks,
We simply must remember that
Art really matters more than sex.
When brooding about some grumpy day
Composed of overdrafts and wrecks,
Draw yourself proudly up and say,
‘Art really matters more than sex.’
So there you are now, laying down
Miraculous daubs and streaks and flecks,
Recalling with a wistful frown
How much art matters more than sex.
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