She can see about four satellites

Every minute of the hour

And find a four leaf clover

Where you never saw a flower

She's habitually paradoxical, a Parallel Perpendicular.

Barefoot in nightgowns,

That's how she dances in the rain

Sundown to Sundown, like she was washing away her pain;

As she is beatiful, she's unpredictable

Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her?

She is my common sense, revels on decadence

But what's the difference, it's impossible to bait her.

She can really be a handful

Like the brownes that she bakes you

It can be a tad hysterical,

But never quite the breakthrough

She's some kind of an epitome, the sea of intranquility.

In flimsy nightgowns, barefoot she dances in the rain

Sundown to Sundown, like she was washing away her pain;

As she is beatiful, she's unpredictable

Damned irresistible, is it plausible to hate her?

She is my common sense, revels on decadence

But what's the difference, it's an impossible debate.