My mistress ‘s air is like a sultry sun
My mistress eye looks lined as it is glass
She lost her marbles playing with Dettox
She’s good at letting errors stumble past
And mending fuses in that little hock.
My mistress dear I gaze upon that feast.
I see her skin is read as is the alphabet
I too have dusted and I have confessed
But still she rambles and she pays no debts
In truth I am as fertile as a cat
but each must act according to the facts