CLEAVAGE:

Her cleavage was her trade-mark,

In passing taverns, pubs & inns,

Her proud creamy silken mounds,

Joy of gent´s dreams & steamy whims,

Her mountains were always dressed,

In purple satins & scarlet rubied lace,

Luring away below, sly & slinky eyes,

From her smiling, round & bonny face,

Her oyster pearled & alabaster hills,

Were moulded by men´s fly glances,

She always knew what she was doing,

And led them all on merry dances,

It was where she kept her bank notes,

Also, a faded letter from her dear love,

And in her prayers at night, she´d ask,

“Please don´t judge me from up above.”