If love's what makes the world go 'round,
As I've heard sages say,
Then why do I hate lovebugs so much
When we hit them along our way?
Love seems to guide their every move,
They travel two by two.
Because they're locked to each other's butts,
What else could they do?
They're only found in southern climes;
The North is not their place.
But, if I could, I really would
Send them all to outer space!
They're so busy lovin' they don't think
To watch where they are headed.
So unnumbered hordes of these little pests
On vehicles, get smashed and embedded!
They smush across the windshield,
The bumper, radiator, and hood.
They leave -- not blood -- but a sticky
Gooey mess that is not good!
We must stop as soon as we safely can
To scrub them off while wet.
They'll make a stain if we let 'em dry.
Then, we hit another set!
So, if lovebugs are examples of love,
It's a kind that we don't need.
In the lovely flower garden of life
Lovebugs are naught but a weed!
As world turners, lovebugs are a flop.
Can't turn themselves, I'd say.
But I'd be eternally grateful
If they'd just get out of our way!