Proud mother in porcelain white,

write letters in fading veneer,

chase down the words with a smile;

one in the dust and the snowbanks,

one in the autumnal leafbeds,

Proud mother, say something so porcelain,

so white in its dusty varnish,

that carousels meet with the dance-floor,

that horses will whisper and whinny.

So white in its dusty veneer,

the softspoken limelight so yuletide,

horses will whisper and whinny,

tango through roses and holly.

The softspoken limelight, so yuletide,

that carousels meet with the dance-floor,

tango through roses and holly,

proud mother, say something so porcelain.

Lone Wolf1990 (talk) 00:58, February 14, 2013 (UTC)

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