Certain
Person
Doesn’t
Like
It
If
I sing,
Or
Talk
Too
Much,
Or
Dance
And
Dare
To
Write
Steamy
Romance.
Fatal
To
Repeat
A
Juicy,
Twice
Told
Tale,
That
Inspires
Wrath.
Also,
It
Often
Is
Unwise
To
Laugh,
And
The
Day
Grows
Sour
By
The
Hour.
Why
Is
It
That
Those
We
Love
Offer
Not
A
Helping
Hand,
But
A
Shove?