This girl knew what the profession was about. She smiled at me three times And I knew that she was Catholic A red guard with a hard philosophy. She had medium long black hair And brown eyes that looked down her nose She wore no glasses And I could see her bra. It showed lightly through the white shirt At the pancake house I knew that it was her style Not some strange accident. That was the first time she smiled. On the second She leaned over to hand me my eggs. She knew that The Warlord was watching us.
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