Compulsive, compulsive... Why, could that be me?
I am prone, now and then, to obsess.
My home's not just tidy, it's crazily clean;
I will NOT co-exist with a mess.
The flatware is polished, the linens are crisp,
and the kitchen's maniacally neat.
My living-room curtains hang razor-edge straight.
I get fussy, so please wipe your feet.
I alphabetize all my spices, of course,
because cumin can't sit next to thyme.
I'll not write with pencils unless they are sharp,
or compose an unnatural rhyme.
I can't abide clutter. One stain on the rug,
and it's Valium City for me.
(I swear, if that mutt goes to sleep on my bed,
we'll have dog-gumbo dinner, you'll see!)
My hair's always perfect; if one's out of place,
I must coif it all over a-gain.
Despite this, I am a nice person; although,
there are times I'm a terrible pain...!