At Clancy's Bar
(Ice The Jewels)

 Her eyes are blue. Her breasts could test 
 The basest part of my interest.
 Her thighs aflame, my senses require
 A peek beneath the dancer’s attire.

 What blossoms bloom beneath her brassier?
 What claims I’d claim if I could see her
 Supple spread men always crave
 From puberty to early grave!

 But such are dreams and pipe desires.
 (I may have cash but she’s not for hire)
 Lust is rough and passion cruel,
 So tonight I’ll ice the family jewels.