There Is A Garden In Her Face,
Where Roses And White Lilies Blow;
A Heavenly Paradise Is That Place,
Wherein All Pleasant Fruits Do Grow.
There Cherries Grow That None May Buy,
Till Cherry Ripe Themselves Do Cry
Don''t Waste Your Time On Jealousy. . .
Some Times U''re A Head . . . Some Times U''re Behind . . .
The Race Is Long And In The End It''s Only Wid Yourself . . .
