She called our love al dente
Then tore the meal apart
She called our love al dente
Then stabbed a tomato through the heart
She called our love al dente
And I thought the meal was piping hot
But then she exclaimed, lamenting:
“You used an old and dented pot!”
When she called our love al dente
I thought she knew exactly what it meant
A blend so perfectly spiced and seasoned,
Not a fork rusty and bent