I like the strange ones, the girls with pitch black hair and fingers painted to match.
I like them with a crooked smile and a voice complete with smoke darkened scratch.
I like the wicked jokes and wicked deeds by day. I like the ones who say ‘leave the light on, i like to see you when we play’.
I like the weird ones, the girls bleached all too blond. Of their scarlet lips and mocking wiles I admit I’m far too fond.
I like the wandering ones, the girls who seek just that one perfect man, I’ve no time for whores no matter how nice their tits or tan.
I like the awful ones, who’ll fight for what they do believe, I watch them with baited breath to see they have next up their sleeve.
I like the dreaming ones, their faces far away, I can just imagine how pleasant t’would be a dreaming afternoon, under an oak with them to lay.
I like the shy ones, the girls who whisper ever so soft. They are deep and wise as they are beautiful more often than not.
I love them all, the ones who dare strange. The ones who make their own way over this world and it jagged mountain range. Let my love be professed to you my dears and know my regard does swell.
I’ll ever stand for you against man or beast or mocking bell.
Just one I pray will meet me someday and choose me for true. I’ll be yours my dear, to take to home or heaven or hell.