L'Amour Judith Williams

Hello, I am the final boss.
Fragrance notes: All.
Tart, sour, furry-in-the-neck feelings. Take my love.

I give you peaches from Morocco, I have bathed them in the same roses, I have rubbed orange blossoms on them. And a chamomile tea from Grandma. You can take it.
Here come the spices: Let the caraway warm you up; I'll bathe you in cloves; you'll go limp - let the cinnamon pick you up again.
The club blows: Wooden cudgel from the sack - I'll blow love into you. Are you still not choking on the rose? Vanilla is fine too, and iris; let the musk winds blow. Patchouli! (goodbye to us) - You've spent a night in the castle without fear.