by Emma Rosenblum
Our love exploded like a fireball
fireballs are hot, hot
stop, drop, and roooolllll.
You came at me like a curveball
I didn’t see you coming
heeeeey, heeeeey, you should really announce yourself, K?
I’m drunk on you like I had a few too many highballs
your ice cubes are huge.
You play me like racquetball
you know, racquetball
from the ‘80s?
You carve me like a Butterball
a delicious Thanksgiving Butterball
you give me a tryptophan high.
I eye you like an oddball
an oddball in the subway
I am a creep.
You make me dizzy like a tetherball
wrap me around your pole
that’s what she said.
You’ve got red hair like Lucille Ball
you’re my ginger love
it’s a recessive trait, recessive trait, recessive trait.
Chicken Ball (Do the Heimlich Maneuver)
Our love chokes me like a chicken ball
like Mama Cass’s chicken ball
do the Heimlich Maneuver!
Our passion pokes me in the eyeball
Blink, blink, blink
Six Feet Under,
American Beauty (repeat)
Previously: Soap Is The Devil
Emma Rosenblum is an editor at Bloomberg Businessweek. She is afraid to try chicken balls.