Look deep into my eyes when you talk, you're sure to be impressed for the mirrors of my soul lie there my dear, and not, from that which protrudes from my chest. Yes I'm talkin bout those "mammarys" no wisdom lies within your quest to compare the two and secretly decide which one you like the best. If by chance my eyes don't interest you, perhaps your attention can rest on my hands, since it has been said I talk with them, or on my mouth as each word is expressed. Reminds me of a similar experience that a friend of mine once confessed... She told me this story of a man, and what occurred when she spoke to him. Never once did he actually say good morning to her, he said good morning to "them". Now, supposin since she was in that way blessed her bust line had put a hex on him, we guessed. Why are they so interesting? They have yet to educate the masses, or help with even the most menial task. They don't know the answer to any of life's mysteries no matter how many times you ask I realize there is an urge to look at them and if one just casually glances, I don't care but if I'm buttoned up to the neck, and they're not hanging out, for goodness sakes, don't stare... By the way, what color are my eyes again?