She walked out piercing polkadots
As she looked for an outfit her mother wouldn’t degrade
She let the shutter fly and the breeze rustle her soul
She thinks she’s chasing happiness
And though she might be right
It’s not the daily joyousness
She feels she cannot find.
Yes, there’s something missing
Yes, it’s quite amiss
But once she pierced the polkadots,
She kissed it on the lips.