Johnnie to her Fanny

I’m Johnnie to her Fanny
If you’re old, you’ll understand
It’s my job when she performs
to make sure things go just as planned

When she’s reading out her poems
I ensure they are in order
If the venue is too hot I must
make sure she has fresh water

If it’s cooking tasty flat breads
the ingredients I must pass
and when cooking them ensure that
we do not run out of gas

Her last gig was unusual
life modelling came from her page
before I knew it, there I stood
buck naked, on the stage

Unlike TV’s unhappy pair
(I know that this sounds corny)
I’m really happy she’s my Fanny
I’ll always be her Johnnie

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