Moan

He seemed unhappy
Discontent with his life

Much of his angst
Aimed at me
his poor wife

And then he confessed
Our sex life's no good

When we do it
Could you moan
Or say something rude

I nodded, agreed
To that which he said

He whistled
With joy
As he took me to bed

I lay on my back
Like a latter day saint

As he got into his swing
I nodded at the roof
That needs re-plastered and maybe some paint...