Knock me down, if that will make things better,

Better men than you have tried to floor me;

Meekly read your tear-stained Dear John letter,

Let her go mate, plenty more in your sea.

See that cute brunette, she looks a nice piece,

Peace between us, you don’t want to grieve me;

Meeting someone new will make the hurt cease,

Seas are full of fish, my boy, believe me.

Methinks time has come to show you this pic,

Pick the guy on top - it’s your mate, Andy;

And he’s boasting that she loved the sex kick,

Kicked her heels up, gave him her sweet candy.

Can dejection steal your sense of recourse?

Course, if you don’t care, I’ll say goodbye now;

By now you must see you flog a dead horse,

Whores like her? Come on mate, don’t you cry now.

Nowadays your story is an old one,

One day you will find yourself the real thing;

Things will brighten, you will see a gold sun,

Son, I vow, you won’t mistake the feeling.