Strike Up The Band, Sweet Lady

Strike up the band, Sweet Lady

I have the feeling we need to dance

Your Southern Charms come calling

& I’m feeling I might get my chance

I’ll compliment your lovely gown

& whisper all my devious thoughts

At the sight of your enticing blush

My nipples grow a little more taut

You Give Up Your Voice

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You give up your voice
When you choose to take their hand
You sacrifice your honor
When you go joining their faceless band

You deem yourself unremarkable
Once they take away your vote
No longer choosing for yourself
Their drudging spirit grabs your throat

The hoard directs you how to think
& can make you recite all sorts of things
You deserve your time in Hell
When you hand them your own strings

Dressed To Instantly Kill

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Dressed to instantly kill
No use for a Wonderbra
The sass in your hips
You’re clearly bourgeois

Dancing beside the bar
Telling me some dirty jokes
A subtle, seductive attitude
Smiling between the sly tokes

The band is still playing
Accustomed to rooms so plush
Focusing on my quiet charm
Your attention makes me blush

I’m trying to keep up
But I’ve only been with local girls
You lead me by the hand
& soon only wearing those pearls