Ai once lived with a woman. She was not my wife,
since she was to reluctant to offer me life.
She was nice, though, and sweet, and she offered me sex,
and with her my apartment was always à lex.
Then aI woke, and what happened was that she was ill.
She was terribly ill, and my fiancée still.
So, aI left her. And aI know aI should not have done.
She was sudden response. And she was never won.
Ai was all on my own. She, as woman, was not.
Even Marx had a friend. And a history got.
Ai should not have been proud, and possessed with my glow.
Ai should Jesus have trusted, and faithfully grow.