In my white shirt
I don't need to flirt
With what is in skirt
Because, there, I find no mirth
Not because i hate the skirt
It's because of my new birth
So I'll wait till He bids me to mirth
With my rib that wears her skirt
So i will hold my breath
And will avoid what he calls dirt
Thus I'll escape untimely death
And will rejoice with she that has the new birth
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