So many hurdles in become a man

Like riding a byke, driving a car

Or, deftly unfastening

Your girlfriend’s bra.

The one who invented

That series of hooks

Should be named a criminal

In social history books.

 

One hand only said the code.

As I struggled she would giggle

Try to help maybe by 

Giving just a little wiggle.

Nothing moved as

My fingers went numb

Then Jesus wept

Bloody cramp in my thumb.

 

In despair

I would desist

Tradition wouldn't 

Let her assist

So we'd sit there

Unwillingly chaste

With arm curled

Around her waist.

 

In those days you seldom did

What you didn't oughter

Cos in those days a dad

Looked after his daughter.

One goodbye kiss

Seldom more 

Cos he could be waiting

Behind their back door.

 

Stay too long

And he could appear

To fetch you a clout

Across the ear.

Romance 1950's era

Standards didn't let you go too far

Like those damned little hooks

They used to fasten that bloody bra.