We Will All Go Together When We Go

I am quickly swept off my feet by a man who can turn a phrase well. Quirky rhymes of rhythmic perfection? I’m his. Tom Lehrer, be mine?

Of course, he’s eighty years old now so he probably wouldn’t be interested, but Tom? Are you there, Tom? You were a frickin’ genius THEN and you’re a frickin’ genius NOW and I LOVE YOU.

But now I should calm down lest I say something inappropriate in the primal heat of my love for Tom Lehrer.

Masochism Tango, anyone? Elements? Werner Von Braun? Vatican Rag? Pollution? National Brotherhood Week? So Long, Mom? Who’s Next? I Got It From Agnes?

What’ll it be?

What’s that you say? Why of COURSE! Poisoning Pigeons in the Park, it is.