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Something About Your Hand

I must confess deary! deary!
That there's something about your hand,
That softens the grip of a snapping finger,
That moistens the palm of a roughy handy,
That caresses the soul for a beating heartbeat
And that seduces the mind with a soft touch from you.

So laugh not cheerful one
Cos your spell made my hand greasy
In collision with yours!

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