She stands there looking into
The eyes he is undressing her with
You come in
She waits a while
Then she so sweetly tells you
That she enjoys his
So much better than yours
His personality
His voice
The hair upon his head
His chest
He sweeps her off her feet
With a sexy look
A passionate smile
You become a
Hand me down
And she becomes his
Because she would rather his
Rarther than yours!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem