Little Room For Love In London.
I’m not saying London’s dark and gloomy
Or that the Hotel Le Cubicle is less than roomy,
Or there’s no room within to swing a pussycat,
I don’t believe we can stretch credulity to that.
Should one find one who whets one’s sexual appetite
Don’t invite her back to share the night,
One will find oneself feeling like a monk
Unless she’s happy top’n’tailing in a bunk.