All Hands To The Pump

You keep me on the down low
Telling me that it's all good
And all is fair in love and war
But it ain't nothing but a chicken wing
Because too many cooks spoil the broth
Of your nasty little acid test
Your love is blind to my needs
And your rolling stone gathers no moss
You're free as a bird as you roam
Like a seven year itch
Taking only the icing on the cake
You think that love is as scarce as hen's teeth
But you're hot to trot a mile a minute
Saying "I'm game"
You don't know that silence is golden
Because you're rotten to the core
You think I'm a necessary evil
As the lesser of two evils
When you could keep your nose to the grindstone
And hit that ball and knock it out of the park
Knock the cover off the ball
With you it is age before beauty
You Can't see that my love is
Fresh as a Summer's rain
And deeper than the deepest ocean