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Beautiful women stridding along beach front properties after the cruel april showers have rolled through damaging and overflooding the hanging geraniums, and the despise of jealous boys rolling through hemlock, with trousers stained with sand, they gaze like dogs looking at a juicy bone, at the beautiful women, all of them walking hand and hand singing songs of love, as hummingbirds and nightingales soar high over their heads, keeping them all company, all singing songs of love. Go now, go now, into the gardens of beauty there you'll find me hinding, waiting for my beautiful women that spare no glance, but a quick of a hand I am allowed. Go now, go now, into the gardens of beauty pick the red roses that bloom, and leave the blue violets for the dead. See the beautiful women, as the jealous boys huddle around me, we gaze at their beauty and hold our breath, till they start laughing. They drink tea, read novels and talk about everything that matters to naive girls' mind. We listen and hear their secrets, some horrid and some unbearable to listen too. Go now, young boys and stride on go to the beach front properties in your straw hats and sandstained trousers and call unto me, when the beautiful women come once again striding along. One beautiful woman I gaze upon blonde hair, blue eyes the sweetest of arian races she wears her flannel, spring dress, and cottonswab blouse, she turns to me, hiding in the rose peaker bushes, she looks at me and smiles. I hide my emotion and I leave the garden of beauty, to stride for another day. To see the young, beautiful girls, to see that one, that is not hard to spot the one, like the first rose to bloom she is not hard to spot. One day, as I sit in the garden of beauty, my courage will reign over me and I shall present myself to her grace and glorious beauty. Go now my dear, go now, go to the garden of beauty, and share your stories and drink your tea in peace; Pick the ruby roses, but leave the blue violets for the dead, for I am safe and I am just around the corner.
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