They called her Rosemouth And she Put love, and she put love They called her Rosemouth she put love above any thoughtAs she went down at the train stationAt the village of Saint HillaryEverybody realized at the first look she wasn t for sure a missionarythere is who makes love because of bore who choose to do it as a professionrosemouth none of the twoshe made it jus for passionBut passion often leadsTo satisfy our own needsWithout asking if the lusted Has its hearth free or it is engagedAnd so it happened that day by dayRosemouth attracted to herselfThe anger of the poochesShe took the bone away But the merry wives of a small villageAre not known for their intiativeThe contermeasure untill that pointWere limited to the invectiveYou know that the people give good advicesFeeling like Jesus in the templeYou know that people give good advicesWhen they can’t give anymore the bad exampleSo and old gossip never been wifeWithout any son, whithot any needTook the brount , for sure the pleasureTo give to the cummars the good adviceAnd talking to the cuckold women She spoke them words witty and remarkedAnd said the theft of love will be perscutedBy the order constituitedSo they went to the commissaryAnd told him without parafhraseThat filthy whore has too many clientsMore than an alimentary storeAnd arrived four policemenWith their uniform and with their hatsAnd arrived four policemen With their uniform and with their armsthe tender heart is not somethingthat the policemen willingly showbut that time to the trainthey took Rosemouth really with bad graceAt the train station there were everybodyFrom the commissary to the priestAt the station there everybody With red eyes and hat in handTo great who for a whileWithout asking nothing without expectationsTo great who for a whileBrought love in the smallvillageThere was a yellow boardWith a black writeThat said so long RosemouthGoing you away spring is leaving usBut an original news Don’t need any newspaperLike an arrow shot from the arch It runs fast from mouth to mouthAnd at the next stationMuch more people than when she leftWho blowned her kisses , who threw her some flowersWho asked to be with her a couple of hoursEven the the vicar that don’t despiseBetween a misere and an extreme ritesThe voluptuos good of beautyWanted her at his side in the processionSo with Maria Virgin in the frist lineAnd rosemouth hidden but closeHe leads with him in the villageThe sacre love and profane love so we are at the end of the year and is already some month i am on here, and, whow!!! i didn't espect to find so many amazing people on here. so thank you so much for being you, so sweet so naughty and so incredible. but above all so friendly. some more than others and sombody even more, you know who you are. thank you for the incredible moments, couldn't belive to find something so deep on here...... even the stupidity of some guy is so deep, but is part of the play and i accept it. by the way i have so many random request of friendship. guys , nothing against you, but before to send a friend request try , if your mind allows you , to change some word and avoid that easy irony for my name. kissesmaybe it was not clear, so i try to repeat in other words:guys , nothing against you, but before to send a friend request try , if your mind allows you , to change some word and avoid that easy irony on my name. kisses
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