She
Derives
From a blossoming fruit
From a tree not fertile

He
Rots
In the collar tie troops
In an army not good

She
Will seek
When the sun is in glare
When her mother is sick

He
Will not
Though a placid white breeze
Though the sweet in the cheese

They look good
They get it on, get it on, get it on
Hey, hush, look
And then don't don't don't