My mustache has a name. His name is Harry Pete.
It has no sense of shame, it’s really one big treat.
I take it to a ball game and even my bedroom suite.
I’d love to see it in a picture frame hanging by where we eat,
Maybe in the hall of fame, it’s really the one to beat.
There’s no mustache that’s the same, no one matching it on the street.
I know that is one big claim, but it’s sexier than my feet.
Created: Dec 23, 2010juanj Document Media