A Spanish Echo

A Spanish Echo

Casanova came by,

Took note of the scene,

Played a lover of the serene,

Always giving love so keen.

Casanova left here,

Took you to bed again,

Glorified love in heavens name,

Two times a day, no pain.

Casanova was found,

Overtaken by the passions strain,

Of making love to you again,

You were like an express train.

Casanova buried now,

Eulogy to a prolific lover,

Killed by a Scottish, single mother,

Broke him more than any other.

And yes, I do realise that Casanova was Italian.