She stands there listening. She sets her snares snaring Knowing she is a love genius. you know where, she never don't.

She has no baby there. She has a child there. There is no need for a phrase like in other words. She loves only one boy.

She's a settled woman.

Men make love to her sensual riches. None of them are in charge of her britches She tells the truth, and forgives She doesn't need to do such things though.

You forget, she is a settled woman.

She's an artisan. Always knew the talent of giving from her father. That man admitted his lies. Even after death I will not just be a user of you, neither.

Nothing she has done has been labor for him

One man. One Man. None brilliant enough to accept her. Even after leaving her with  one up front.

Before one. She's a settled woman. And few settlers, are love settlers.

As short as the man closes the window. This settled woman, will stay forevermore.