I got her a new bra for Christmas.
So that the girls have nowhere to roam.
I wanted uplifting without any shifting,
But now I sit here all alone.
Yes, she told me she wanted support,
And a bra does that better than me.
By taking out haste from the race to the waist,
I can't see why this is blasphemy.
I hate buying presents for Christmas.
For some reason I can't get it right.
I gave her no crap for my new jockstrap,
But it seems that a bra makes a fight.
I really should leave the house quickly,
For she's come back with death in her eyes.
Oh my nuts will bake from this big mistake,
'Cuz the bra is my mistress' size.
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