Her Uppish wish

She wish the spirited death not come at all Though it comes a stingotic ideas
In her too effacing lifestyles
She raises her brow see a prideous queenly

What shalt be the reward of proud and the grandiosos nose?
That go a uppity
And the slaying body that go about a closet nudity?
Both haughty looks
And high shoulders that owned large brooks
All shall the death tastes
and their wealth is for the carcass sojourning the blue air

Would your fakery beauty saves you a pimps
And your riches follow you along the waves and shrimps

Now it shall come a nemesis to the wind that blow not a mercy
Messenger of god in the Aristocracy
At this winkers, it unseemingly sounds no perky