Oh Svetlana, Svetlana my mail-order Bride
my bargain Babushka as tall as you're wide,
I remember hoping our new love would grow,
watching you waddle off the Minsk to Heathrow
that first time we met I had to quickly decide
if it was 'all you' or were there 4 more inside
I rang the Agency but there was no disputing
I'd ticked the box to accept one like Rasputin
On our wedding night I confess I was wary,
in bed with a Power-lifter can be a bit scary
add lingerie size small, it becomes quite shocking,
stood burpin' Borsht with only one stocking!
Tho lacking in looks she had plenty of weird
flexing her muscles and grooming her beard,
she could often be found turning out my pockets
demanding to know where we kept all our rockets;
that we weren't compatible was patently clear,
as I watched her empty a full crate of beer,
which she washed down with vodka or rum
trying to seduce me by wiggling her Bum
She told me she'd worked for the KGB
but left for the fried chicken at KFC
that she was lonely and in a bit of a fix
missing pals and chasing Pigs with sticks
she tried to sing and entered the X-fctor
with a song about love for an old rusty Tractor,
but her voice was like gravel inside a Spin-dryer,
and the judges fled hearing “now I sing higher!”
Finally, from the decadent West she departed,
back to Minsk where her love-quest had started,
I still have nightmares of her Kiss-puckered lips
from which vinegar dripped and she fed me chips
how by the ankles I'd be spun a la Cosmonaut
she laughing, as my head the door-knob caught
but despite all I smile, thinking of her shoulders
carrying her favourite horse,as she smashes boulders.
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