Madame le Borbier

Madame le Borbier caught my eye

When she was a sixth form nymphet
Under the beckoning Twin Towers
I had the romantic scene set
But at 10:07 up she flew
Smashed the cup down from my lip
'76 Claret tastes bitter when
You never even get to sip

So the summer of Love Is All Around
Left my heart smashed up on the floor
It was easier when I'd heard no news
Of her for a year or more
I collected my post just the other day
Flicked through a fanzine and soon
Saw her unmistakable writing style
It seemed to blacken out the moon

Madame le Borbier, the story said
Had found her heart's own wish
For sure he's beauty to her eyes
But to me he stinks of fish
She writes page upon page of how happy she is
Telling humorous tales of her bloke
She says his heart is the heart of a lion
While mine is an artichoke

So with 'Madame le Borbier' on my lips
Sitting alone in the pub
I think of joining the Rosicrucians
Or the E1 Poetry Club
And a minstrel plays on his wurzel-stick
Singing that song by Joe
But for the happy pair there'll be a show
They'll have music wherever they go