She, clever, kept on lying. She was two-faced.
She never loved replying. She’s a true waste.
Whenever was she sighing. She loved to taste
Whomever she caught eyeing herself, who chased.
“Whatever,” said I, flying — with untrue grace,
However. I am buying now a due case.
Forever I’ll be crying. I’m in Blue Space,
And ever am I dying for a new face.