Walking around in that familiar street,
Where morality has always been the order of the day,
Modesty for it’s heaven-like treat,
Full of souls of an adorable jay,
Where exists a bunch of holy fashion plate,
Admirable and adorable with their round lovable face.
What are all these? Am I at the wrong gate?
These skimpy and revealing rags are driving me in craze.
This saucy scene is just so tempting,
That I’m lost between running and staying.
Oh! My goodness, what has befallen these Marias?
Have they lost their sanity or am I in daze?
What could have became of their mentors?
They wouldn’t have bred these sophisticated popinjays,
Isn’t this fore and hind view too much for their trays?
Danger! What generation will drink from these public bossom?
Will they embrace or rebuke their fashion custom?
What if they thread their ignominious path,
Will they burn or preserve the shining altars?
Alas! This roman virus had prevailed across Niger
It had bathed in the Nile
Contaminated the Danube
Dine with the Euphrates
Is it that strong to break the door of these holy Maria’s?
Ah! Does all those belong to Nancy?
I never know she is this sexy
Silly me, am I admiring?
I have to leave for these Marias are too alluring
Pity for the man standing at the altar