I'd like to think, though it's just conjecture,
(Who knows what evil lurks in the pants of men?)
When my temptress comes, I will reject her.
So I'd like to think. But then again,
It seems a silly little song-and-dance
To posture so. Innocence means nothing when
To test its mettle one has no chance.
(Who knows what evil lurks in men's pants?)