Social construct: Marriage

Lipstick on an alligator pays to make her really hate the
Date she’d take to wind her fate along their fingers six to eight
She slain her bait and flayed the crate but hey she’ll mate before too late.

Berate, before ablate she,
Ate a pepper steak free,
Of MS glutamate, the
Chemical of late, greed
Strikes a freaky chord with hoards of bored humanity it lords
amoured over our stores of moral codes and memory

The alligator and her man tie knot to scaly claw and hand they
Walk down aisle and into car
And honeymoon Jamaican swim-up bar.