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Serenade | ||
| Serenade a seņorita. She'll come shyly out to meet-ya. Watch her coyly blink her lashes As she's peering through the sashes. She is clad in finest fashion, Ready to inspire your passion. In the moonlight she will glisten As she lingers there to listen. Serenade her smile and virtue. Not a soul will come to hurt you. Let the song be warm and cheery. Make it long; do not grow weary. | ||
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