Knowin how to keep em
Oh don't think that I ain't seein'
As you roll those purty eyes,'
And my man stands there a gawkin'
Like he'd won some sort of prize.
My ma taught me how to keep em
And to cut you down to size.
For there ain't no man worth havin'
Can resist my apple pies.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2018
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