Indiana Shaw Poet Tercet

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There's Nothing On Her

She speaks her own mind, stomps her own feet 
It’s her own life, living to her very own beat
She sees through all of your lies and deceits 

There’s nothing on her . . . 

Jumping in and out of all of your minds
She’s met the lot, it takes all kinds 
Recognizing all those dodgy signs 

There’s nothing on her . . . 

Dancing with all those snakes in the grass
Faking their lives, they have no morals, or class
Their dirty tricks collected in their pocketful’s amass 

There’s nothing on her . . . 

They all want what she’s got, and that’s the lot
Yeah, she remembers you, she forgets you not
She’s forever having to dodge their latest shot 

There’s nothing on her . . . 

Behind her back they all call her names
Try to mess with her head with all of their games 
But hey, it’s her writes that puts them all to shame's

There’s nothing on her 

There’s nothing on her

Yeah

There’s nothing on her . . .

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