What better title for a tender love ballad.  I'd had the title for ages - two words that sum up the whole process I 

thought, somewhat evilly.  But then came the moment to sit down and actually write the song.
Here's the thing not to do:
Write the lyrics before the music. Not only that, but write the longest lyric you've ever done.  And make sure that all 

the verses and choruses (chori?) are different lengths and use different rhyming schemes.  And different tempi.  

That'll make it easy.
Anyway I quite liked how it turned out.

All people and events featured in this tune are fictitious.  Hardly any animals were harmed during the production.

Lyrics

When I was young and full of it
I put myself about a bit
And never cared whose hearts I broke
Along the way, nor caused to cry.
For I was a shallow, callow youth
Whose fondness for the brutal truth
Brought me endless cruel amusement
(And the occasional black eye).
One in particular I recall
From a long line of temporay paramours
A shy retiring wallflower she
Fell victim to my silky lies.

As the night wore on and the drink wore off
In my plan to charm her garments off
I told her my true feelings
As I gazed into her eyes:

You're not blonde, you're a bit too tall,
Your boobs are frankly a little too small
And that Top Shop frock doesn't suit you at all
But I guess you'll just have to do.
See I've been here all night and it's getting late
My available options ain't looking too great
And the one I really fancied just left with my mate
So it's your lucky night - you'll do.

As usual, by Sunday tea,
The romance failed. Off went she
To nurse her broken heart and I
To break some more the next weekend.
But some years on she was back in touch;
I hardly knew her, she'd changed that much:
Beautiful, confident, tastefully dressed,
She turned my world on its end.
Well I knew my dazzling wit and charm
Could work its magic a second time
But she stopped me dead, pulled me close
And whispered in my ear:

You've put on weight, your bum's sagging down,
Your receding patch makes you look like a clown
And that stupid moustache had me laughing out loud
But I guess you'll just have to do.
See I think you might have grown out of being Jack the lad
And this ain't quite the worst date I've ever had
And your previous test-drive was not too bad
So just get the bill - you'll do.

Now we face each other every night
Over dining table candlelight
With pictures of our wedding
Next to children's graduation days.
And though neither of us was such a wonderful catch
I guess you could say we'd both met our match
And yeah we see the funny side
Though an acid edge still stays:

Your skin's all wrinkled, your hair's gone grey
Your youthful physique has withered away
Your whole body's in a total state of decay
But I guess you'll just have to do.
You still don't like my folks though you try to pretend
Your peculiar habits drive me round the bend
Why we're still together I just can't comprehend
But you're all I've got left, so you'll do.