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TITLE: Elbow Grease of Love
By Patrick McClure
03/23/06
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I would do anything for her, because of my love
I would work three jobs for her, because of my love
Put a little elbow grease on school toilet seats
And pull acres of weeds in Alabama’s summer heat
Maybe even test pepper spray, on myself, or be a crash test dummy
I would do anything for her, because of my love

I would do anything for her, because of my love
I’d rearrange my bank account and count the ways to spoil her
Buy diamonds and pearls, a girl’s best friends, and spend
Thousands on clothes, whatever the trend,
and bend over backwards for new bikinis,
New bras, and leather belts, and alligator boots, hoop earrings and anything
I would do anything for her, because of my love

I would do anything for her, because of my love
I would fight ten men for her, because of my love
Make my eyebrows bleed, make me plead for mercy and scream
In pain, my brain burns in agony as steel pipes pound
But I’d still shout that I love her before my lifeless frame slumps to the ground
I would do anything for her, because of my love

She asks me to do a few things for her, because of my love
She asks me silently sometimes, but it speaks loud and clear
As I hear her request I question its impact
But I trust her eyes and I sigh and say yes
When she asks me simply to clean off the plates
All two of them, and a couple napkins, a fork and spoon each, both glasses
She taught classes all day too, and she’s come home
And sweat at the stove fixing fettuccini alfredo
One of my favorites

She asks me to do a few things for her, because of my love
She asks me to sacrifice some of the sports, because of my love
A little less Monday Night Football, a little more America’s Top Model
Sportscenter replaced by more feminine tastes
Like shopping at Macy’s and reruns of Sex and the City
This sacrifice slides my likes to the side
And moves with my Love in this dance of life

She asks me to do a few things for her, because of my love
She asks me to commit and be intimate, simply, to love
But none are measured by my normal manhood standards
Sometimes I almost wish she’d just ask
To fight ten men, or work three jobs, or buy diamonds
But she doesn’t, doesn’t care a bit
Just wants me to see her real needs
Feel her real feelings
And be her real man
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