You saw me, silk all over,
pouting at your garden,
and wishing I could tend it.
You asked me not to take your man.
I’m asking you to look again.
That dress you envied,
was made to fall between us.
What’s better than this?
Gals being pals,
all over your husband’s bed?
I’m begging of you,
don’t beg of me, no more.
