Beautiful thing i meet in December
She has no number
Always wearing her blue garment of thunder
That blows my mind all over
I thought we had something together
That will break all odds and border
I used to fetch her water
and give her all kind of botter
Ithought she will consider
O boy she no think AM!
In fact that is not the matter
Dis babe don turn me to rasta
She just turn things to disaster
Spoil my car then give to plumber
Bros she has to go this december
No matter her hard weather
She must leave or else I'll lose my temper
And leave the remaining for her mother
Her agender has close in my reminder
She has to go before i turn to rasta
No more ANGELINA i meet in DECEMBER......
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