What a Fool Believes

                                     
David

You can kiss my girlfriend
Let your bleach-blonde locks
Fasten to her jet blacks.
All I ask in return
Is to be able to consume
One of your 1984 costumes.

Lee

You succeeded then seceded
Planted a flag of mesh and spandex
Whose elastic stretched to Aqua Net
A million California girls, maybe more.

A decade passed and though
Your Samson locks were shaved
When you reached Appomattox
It was Van Halen who offered his ax.

Roth

You play the predator
You play the class clown
Split and strut; ham it up.
You can kiss my girlfriend
Just as long as you’re not let down
When she admits she digs Eddie’s synth sounds.