Can't go wrong with great source material.

Thou wonderest, I’ll wager, how I knew

About the gallant thou wert with before me;

About thy plans to turn my shade to blue,

‘Spite of thy saying thou didst still adore me.

Betwixt the two’f’us guys, I love thee more!

It is the cause, my soul, it is the cause!

My friends would never lie: thou makest, whore,

A beast with three backs, and with countless paws.

A man, I know, is not supposed to cry;

But losing you would end my life, you see.

These tears I can no longer hold inside,

Though faithless, you just mean that much to me.

The cuckold drinks a passing bitter wine,

When his mischance is heard through the grape vine.

Forgive me, dear one, that when I awoke

This morn within thy bower, I felt crummy.

Some Neptune of my bowels did provoke

A tempest in the ocean of my tummy.

The good news is that I have found the cure;

Indeed, the cure-all for whate'er else ails,

For any type of malady, be sure

Sexual Healing never ever fails.

We need not leave the bed to taste the tonic,

Let nightingale or lark sing, squawk or squall.

Perhaps you'll find the metaphor moronic,

But this injection doesn't hurt at all.

When thou art fever-madded, like an oven,

The only antidote is my sweet lovin’.

Assiduous, I have with great persev’rance

Been tryin’ to hold this feelin’ back so long,

But if thou feel’st, as I do, that deliv’rance

Lies in another’s arms, Let’s Get It On.

Do not admit impediments to the marriage

Of true minds, or of any body part.

Don’t beat about the bush, and don’t disparage,

Just love me with more matter and less art.

We’re all sensitive people; she that gives

Me pleasure’s sensible of my high aim.

If aught be wrong with loving you, to live’s

Th’expense of spirit in a waste of shame.

I’ll play that sexy, sultry Marv Gaye song:

Giving thyself to me can ne’er be wrong.