The windowpane binds
And holds on to the glass
To the very dead end
Despite the dust and friction
Love is such a good thing
Song writers sing
Some answers fly like a jet
All on high hills, wonderful hips,
Kissing lips and all the same hair net.
Adorable apple-bottom for a clarinet
Most remarkable forget not her lovely step
Which never wait for a lagging clock.
Not only her even many after her
The kings’ daughters along bush parts
Farms, gardens and down the same roads.
First, a passion of across loves oceans,
Then the passion flies in air
But in one direction
She has this voice similar to hers
A smile similar to frown
A Kings dream for a lady in a crown
She is the thousands in town
Same rider of different horses
Shouting so many no.