London's Lovely Linda Poem by Michael Troy Buffo

Oh, London’s lovely Linda,
I’m a giver, not a lender
And I want to give you everything I’ve got.
You see, my luscious Linda,
You singe my being to a cinder
For every time you’re near me I get hot.

I’m not implying simple yearning,
I’m talking downright nasty burning
And I’m sure that you can see it in my eyes
Now you’re gone, my stomach’s churning
Oh my God, I must be learning,
You’re a devil behind that beautiful disguise.

Still, that doesn’t change the way I’m feeling,
My poor love-sick head is reeling
And it’s been doing that from the very start
Lovely Linda now I’m kneeling,
You must have a touch for stealing,
For I tell you now, my love, you stole my heart.