Just was, no two ways
Ridiculously adamant on portraying her particular say to all and everyone
No such plunder, blunders all par
Few and far between, you might find her head down and entirely burning one particular candle
Namely shameful, she will always blame the God awful beer
It has to steer her wrong
Then back again, painsttakingly strong
Disarmed rather enticingly at first, a thirst followed by a wayward albeit hard-to-believe-it but rather beautiful burp
Usurp the life out of it
Wits, pretty, dreadfully lazy
Only so soon as she places down that pen
Her only ZEN