When silverfish have eaten up
Your backless dresses’ fronts,
And frankly even what is left
Is not what it was once;
And a man approached with pity
Attacks you with his crutch—
You think life has no meaning,
Or at least not very much—
Oh then it’s time to rally,
Then it’s time to shine.
Then you might remember
You are my Valentine.
When both your fiancés depart,
And cite your double chins,
And what was ecstasy à trois
Is you, expecting twins;
And someone’s tied you to a chair
And no one hears you yelling,
And all the golden plans you’ve laid
Appear not to be jelling—
Oh then it’s time to rally,
Then it’s time to shine.
Then you might remember
You are my Valentine.