Friday, August 18, 2006

At Home with Jay-Z and Beyoncé

[A poem imagining the domestic life of RnB's premier couple, in the form of a duet between Mr Z and Ms Knowles]

Put the kettle on
It won't fit me.
I'd like coffee please, not tea,
And I want it served sexily.

Far be it from me to get crazy at the lady
Who has one of the world's finest booties.
But while enjoying success in your transparent dress,
You've neglected your household duties.
A thick layer of dust is now forming a crust
On my once-shiny collection of bling.
So take my advice and pick up a Dyson
If you want that engagement ring.

You know something Jay-Z, you're always hassling me
For not scrubbing your empire clean.
But I've got work to do, I'm an ingénue,
Not a cooking and washing machine.
Your domestic crimes are much worse than mine
So I suggest you keep your mouth shut.
You squeeze the toothpaste in the middle and when you have a piddle
You always leave the toilet seat up.

Now baby don't shout, we won't work this thing out
By putting each other down.
We've got careers to cling to and don't want to turn into
Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown.

You know what Jay-Z, even though you're pug ugly,
Something in your pocket drives me wild.
So go hire a maid and make sure she gets paid
And then Destiny may bring us a child.

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