Frank and She

She was sick, or so said She

She wanted inside the door, you see

Frank was inside, or so I suppose

for She banged on the door, and bellowed her prose

I was inside, as She wanted to be

but in the next flat, at quarter to three

of this melodrama I watched every second

like watching television, from a small hole I reckon

so simple it was what She did roar

so sick was She as I did say, and this affair she could not afford

next She did mention She might lose her job

yet from Frank on the other side I heard not a sob

twas late in the night and in bed all were bound

nonetheless this lady termed She was not shy with her sound

this hassle lasted for hours or so it did seem

and I am absolutely positive it was not a dream

yet for every inch of my attention I cannot make this story valid

for I left my station and wrote this ballad

therefore with apologies I know not a fact of the finish of this story of She

but I do know for certainty a fool would She be if reached in her pocket and found her - her key