Could it be you that swept me off my feet?
Since the first day I saw you
The love that died within me
Searched for you in that living room
As my heart melted when you said, “Hi, I’m Broom.”
Were our paths meant to cross?
With each movement we made on the floor
Our dedication was something even the dust could not ignore
And each time I picked you up at the corner street of ninety degrees
I’d hold you with the desire of love travelling through the air like a breeze
Was I hypnotised by you?
Bravely bristling back and forth to trap me
With jealousy of how you would always need Dustpan to finish the job
I could not stand seeing the two of you so close together
But each time you assured me that this love is more genuine than leather
Will you be there even when the dust settles?
Would you call me even if all my chores were done?
I suppose you’re married to your duty
A job well-done being your bride and you’re the broom
They call this an unusual love, but our bond is as pure as a dove.