Pleasing Powder | final version

translator:  Caveman1

translated poem: proszek do cieszenia! (ricecookie) - Moderator: Michał Zabłocki
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my moustache carries leftover
of doughnut or cake "sweet clover"
with the cream I am all fed up
my side-whiskers will be stained,yup
I eat, I eat ...till I am full
my guts then will be hard to pull
from the dawn I have been willing:
cream, icing, any sweet filling
my hips are like a cake well-baked
to a female they can be staked
my shoulders are like baked eclairs
from those old films of Rene Clair's
my cheeks are still red hot burning
gotta buy some drugs concerning
thus to make all my needs louder
I'll take for it baking powder

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