Oh what a gal!
She seems such a perfect victim:
This I can tell, for if beauty by guilt,
She's guilty
Ordinarily,
I'd not wish to frighten her or hurt her,
But such beauty inspires one
To give the gift of murder
She's the kind of girl you want to
Run up and tackle through a window some floors up
And spatter you both to hell!
Come and get it;
your stuffed bunny's at the window,
But not that far out...
Reach, little one! Reach!
She's the kind of girl you want to
Run up and tackle through a window some floors up
And spatter you both to hell!
She's the kind of girl you want to
Run up and tackle through a window some floors up
And spatter you both to hell!