I love you so nearly.
I horse whipped idols for years
You’re almost defined.
Your tart is mine;I love Cox’s nipples
I keep him by a raider’s well
He put her on a pedal-less ball
He hated wax without gloves.
I’ll never leave you in the church
I’ll devour ’em in the porch
I promise to love, out say and fol de rol you until death has no heart