Girls wear t-shirts that do proudly proclaim
themselves to be Mrs. Gerard Butler.
Girls, could you possibly be more lame?
Ladies, could you be any less subtler?
I don't oppose to love testimony,
but your shoddy taste is another thing.
I'll shut up when Gerard wins a Tony,
but I tell you, the man just cannot sing.
You insist he acts with depth and feeling,
that his interpretations are unique
while it's but his looks you find appealing
and about which you will ceaselessly shriek.
Face it, my friends: your Romeo's a fraud
whom nobody sane would ever applaud.