The birds flock towards the hanging sign.
The beaus stroll inside the drinking shrine. 
The wind sent shivers down their spine.
Little black dresses made them feel divine.
Dining in the sunshine;
And partying through the moonshine.

Climbing that vine?
I would have to decline...
We meow like a feline.
Oh, you always whine.
I'm not going home: it's only nine.
This drink is fine.
Don't be a swine.
This drink is mine!

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