What might be the matter
With our next-door Martha,
Her rash mischief steady
And she, by choice, heady;
Content to seem an Eddy,
Her gross slaps often ready
Last week, the cheeks of Freddie?
And her guy who is intelligent
Keeps betraying more The Belligerent
Our own share of Satan’s Sergeant,
For his weapons include detergent
And maybe, tomorrow,...
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