she's got eyes like the moonlit midnight
off the coast of a summer paradise.
she's got hips like the tumbling pacific waves,
shaking up a cyclone as she moves.
she's got caramel skin like the truffles you eat,
spotless like the immaculate halls of the king's palace.
she stands before him, the belly dancer,
twisting his frown to a wrinkled smile.
does her majesty know? you daren't ask
'cause the king will have you dead straight.
she's got an ass to murder any man afoot
as she sways; a shiny sword to kill a king...
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