Sick of “sir,” scurries out, with his missus Mary mimes
Rags for thighs unbloke—slather Nair for shines
Man is sylph when cross-dressed, no boyish times
Spike shoes adorn men, truly kinky derring-do
Nix on pockets well-protected by plas-tic.
More suite-garb visions to replace the crass
Man to dress in silk, have a face with masc.
Hues adorn men, truly slinky hairing do
Sam buy ladies’, loves the clothes glam
Where does Sam try shopping? Where there’s no man comes
No warehouse buys, sly a-changin’ ’em chum
Good guy leaves suits for a fate
’cause Sam buys ladies, goodness sake!

Gonna greet gyn mettle with a belt of lace
And his decked out garb, missing the pants ’round waist
No more gray men’s hose in a flannel place
Who adorns men gives a wink; he’ll cross-dress too
With his stilettos, needs no upped-height shim
It’s up he’ll rise to a new-height him
Next he’ll snatch a thong, though hips ain’t quite slim
New adorned man won’t shyly impress you
Sam buys ladies, dons the clothes ma’am
Where does Sam try hot things? Where there’s no man comes
No warehouse plies, sly a-changin’ duds chum
Good guy leaves suits in storm grate
Store: Sam buys ladies. Good?! Looks great!!

The “king” retires thus, with miss shopping list
He takes in the line of hats that cranium-kiss
Nearly good to go with a chapeau like this
But new adorned man really wants a misscue [sic]
Sets a nice mood placed on his skin-tight rug
Firmly planted manner. . .can’t be budged by shrugs
Ain’t no cowboy mounted ’bove that mug
Boot’s-adorned man rues to think wood could issue
Stand high, straining—that would show “Sam”
There’s a gland-high prop-it, where a bone manned comes
Keeps haired, stout pry-thighs, have-baby hunk slumped
Wood high, leave alone that state
When Sam buys ladies’, wood-abate

Oh, these garments for businesswomen are all so guy’d
They show you such dread angles—with pantsuits, no pride
Oh my, what can chicks do but pitch ’em all to one side
Nohow that’s the way to remake you
Great dishes accept that they are dames with charm
Got chichi shoes on their feet and no gross hair on the arms
And they revile awful hoodies, caps that cause alarms
How good it is to be in pure suede, too
Sam likes raiment (i.e., clothes) glam
That’s why Sam buys props chick for some faux-ma’am fun
In their house, wife is a-playin’ it dumb
Should she plead with him: “Abate
Your drag try!”? Lady hesitates.

Chicks have teats, fettle mammaries that can burly grow
For a mams-a-dream husband, two nay-nays: just pads that’s faux
He’s no gentleman now, dick smoothed—lust just must not show
Smoothed, unhorned men, lose uplink, wood-unbuoyed mood
There dude stands in a sheath dress will colors bold
With a golden medallion and his fingernails polled
And his painted face with a paste-on mole
Couture acumen in the pink. . .good and buoyed ’tude
Glam pride “lady” togged in clothes ma’am
And the rags guy profits from this faux-dam fun
Nice fare-spouse buys, price charged, takin’ in mon[ey]
When he leaves he plies a gait
Though Sam buys ladies duds, guy’s straight