The tears of hope in my condition
Yes it is made for my devotion
To show with words my graciousness
Never to poor to afford its pricelessness
Indeed I give you my soul
The years have aged it to a sweet roll
Point one, my life is a thing not to be buttered
No matter how hot if I am bothered
My resistance to sticky situations mighty
If I'm hanging by a thread, my mind goes untidy
Best to be on guard with my night stick
Fend off all tomfoolery and cold hearted tricks
There is no number greater than my love
Whose condition is unconditional - a lonesome dove
Copyrighted 2005
