I have green eyes and my hair is white. My bark is not worse than my bite. If you ask me no questions, I may still tell you lies.

I’m not older than dirt, and my age does not fetter. I like a nice tight sweater, the easier to smile and to flirt.

I’ll die with my boots off, and with dessert in my hand. My last words won’t be, “I demand!”

My request is most simple, “More time, please!”

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