Sunday, July 02, 2017

Frisky Fireman

A cure for one kind of depression; or, where there's smoke, there might be a fireman to the rescue.

Just Call 9-1-1

I’m alive, I can’t believe it
I had given up to die,
I’d arranged to kick the frame today
No one cared to ask me why,
I have lived a long eventful life
But foresaw a painful death,
Then I was boldly interrupted
When I took my final breath.

A local family member
Discovered I was prone,
He heard me fall upon the floor
And thought he heard me moan,
In truth, I was rejoicing
It was time for me to run,
Well, then that sucker saved me
He dialed 9-1-1.

A gorgeous hunk of Fireman
Drove right up to my door,
Assessed the situation
And figured he could score,
Attached me to a monitor
Announcing an arrest,
Resuscitated me, Oh Lord
With massage upon my breast.

Aroused I was, and more alive
Than I had been in years,
I clutched that fellow to my chest
And nibbled on his ears,
He had a fancy uniform
That I quickly slashed and ripped,
It was barely thirty seconds
Till that Fireman was stripped.

My cardiac arrest
Was instantly converted,
When the fellow aimed his hose at me
Cut loose and really squirted,
I bounded to my feet
Feeling totally renewed,
I’m going to tell my aging lady friends
That they should all get screwed.

Well, I’ve changed my way of thinking
I’m no longer so depressed,
When I need a little excitement
At first, I get undressed,
Then, with a helpless cry
I dial 9-1-1,
My Fireman comes quickly
And boy, we have some fun.

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