Pretty As A Picture
Patrick Cannell © 2018
Pretty as a picture, pretty as a picture.
She was as pretty as a picture, pretty as a picture.
She was as pretty as the woman that Botticelli
Had chewing on a lily while lying on her belly at dawn.
She was as pretty as the maid with a face falorn
Rossetti had blowing down a crumpled up tin horn.
Pretty as a picture, pretty as a picture.
She was as pretty as a picture, pretty as a picture.
She was as pretty as the lass squatting on the grass,
With a fan in her hand in a surrealist landscape.
She was as pretty as the sitter who Rembrandt cast in oil
On a couch while her mouth was full of grapes.
Though I'm no expert, it's a dead cert, beauty beats them all.
I don't know you but I'd like to hang you on my wall.
She was as pretty as the girl with a ginger smile
Da Vinci had sitting on a nail for a long long while.
She was as pretty as the dame with an auburn mane
Van Thingy had floating in a dinghy down the deep blue Nile.
Though I'm no expert, it's a dead cert, beauty beats them all.
I don't know you but I'd like to hang you on my wall.