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Jaded In Burbank

LAIN DOWN in Vulcan's brew ascore,
The Magma steams in ocean floor
And then with deafening mighty roar,
Colliding plate heat makes some more.
In Burbank, though, the Jade doth grow,
Silky green and bitter taste
Of Creme De Menthe & Lover's woe.


CHINESE WARRIORS stand agate
Against the Hun his evil state;
Their armour strong of ancient Jade
But nought a victory has it paid.
In Burbank, though, the Jade doth grow,
Silky green and bitter sweet
Of Creme De Menthe & Lover's woe.


AZTEC CROWNS of old Empire
Smashed by sons of Spannish fire
Their toil buys blood in only stains,
Cast across the baron plains.
In Burbank, though, the Jade doth grow,
Silky green and bitter taste
Of Creme De Menthe & Lover's Woe.


BY TIFFANY'S HOUR comes the stone,
For whom the housewife will always moan,
Sparkling luck like amethyst
Beyond the grasp as if a mist.
In Burbank, though, the Jade doth grow,
Silky green and bitter taste
Of Creme De Menthe & Lover's woe.

By Robert L Thompsett