Tangerine

Tangy, was my baby, sweet and hasty. Not for weaklings, surely.

She’d turn you blue, give you spells, there’s no telling what she’d make of you. 

Tangerine, won’t you be, my half orange, girl you got me, like a mad man across these border streets, stumbling walking, searching for my careless baby.

Fully-charged woman of a fiery hue, those hips sway with the strike of my cue, in that red dress I must bid you adieu, I’ve had it with that body being rammed across the city avenue.

Tangy, baby, soft and crazy, can’t you see that I love my lady, truly awfully. So tonight, despite the lies, and the fly-byes, I’m bedding my sweet and hasty, true-love baby,good ol’, Tangerine.