Twirling endlessly on the music box
With a placid smile painted on her face,
Shrouded in colour, alone bar the clock’s
TICK TOCK TICK TOCK, she cries, trapped in her stocks.
She dances with a manufactured grace,
Twirling around on the music box
To a light melody. A couple lock
Eyes, dancing, neglectful in their embrace.
Shrouded in colour, alone bar the clocks
She plots, at night, as cunning as a fox
To escape, run away from such disgrace,
Twirling endlessly on the music box.
Yet, in her hurry she tumbles and drops
To the floor, landing in a pile of lace.
Shrouded in colour, alone bar the clocks
She cries and she cries until her hope stops.
Her body brazenly stuck to the base,
Shrouded in colour, alone bar the clocks
Forever twirling on a music box.