Come, oh, celestial queen
Let me carry you in my palanquin
You are not a chloroquine
To be washed away with so-kiln
It is an abomination
Not to harvest determination
To make you my possession
Though in economic deprivation
You said your name is Priscilla,
Oh I will give you a crystal clear Chrysler.
I will change my name to Gabriella
To rhyme with yours at Shangri-la
Did you say you work at Metropolitan
Or you said Cosmopolitan?
Whichever it is, sine or tan
Any theta shall make a perfect pun
Sorry I let my heart out
In this market with a shout
With no dream streams of doubt
I know these hidden seeds will surely sprout!