The Man who doesn’t exist

Come gather round my friends and Ill tell you about a man,
A man who is adored by every woman in the land,

He rides a big white horse, he’s gorgeous of course,
He never watches sports, and he has never been divorced.

He’s the man, he’s the man, he’s the man who doesn’t exist.

After sex he likes to cuddle, and then talk about your mom,
And he loves to rock out to, Celine Dion,

He’s muscular, and thin, he only has one chin,
He thinks that Cindy Crawford is way too thin,

He takes out the trash, even before you ask,
He never holds your head under the covers, when he releases gas.

He’s the man, he’s the man, he’s the man who doesn’t exist

He loves to paint your toenails, and then give you a back rub,
And when you can’t button your pants, he says they must have shrunk.

He nourishes your soul, he knows how to fold,
And all his favorite underwear is less than ten years old.

He doesn’t criticize, or tell you how to drive,
He knows that after sex, you shouldn’t give a high five.

He’s the man, he’s the man, he’s the man who doesn’t exist.

Nice little song I found.

cuddle??? celine dion??? no thanks...