"γ little closer m'dear", he suggested, twirling his moustaches.
She ν what he was after,
So she δ swift blow to his lascivious hopes.
"φ upon you Sir!", she cried
And β hasty retreat.
Unhand Me Sir!
"γ little closer m'dear", he suggested, twirling his moustaches.
She ν what he was after,
So she δ swift blow to his lascivious hopes.
"φ upon you Sir!", she cried
And β hasty retreat.