How I love your style
With your turn, your smile,
Your silly "sieg heil!",
Your sickness and bile.

Allow me to be
The thing you dream,
The constrictor of glee,
The reason for T.R.E.A.M.

Together we can,
We may, go away--
So swiftly we ran
Up along the bay

The others they yell
"No way, come and stay"
But swiftly you fell--
My hand led the way