Description:
Higher-res version of >>69777
Dead but Still Dreaming Smooze,
You know I am a righteous mare,
Of my virtue I am justly proud.
Dead but Still Dreaming Smooze,
You know Im so much purer than
The common, vulgar, weak, licentious crowd!
Then tell me, my lord Smooze, why I see her prancing there,
Why her smouldring eyes still scorch my soul?
I feel her, I see her!
The sun caught in her rosy hair
Is blazing in me out of all control!
