Give the girl the tools, she'll make a dress of wonder |
She ran around in a deep rage Tired of being kept in a cage Her father was an evil man Socials and parties he did ban The summer ball was on the way Anticipation built all day Tulula was never to set foot Outside, she was to stay put Her father needn’t worry She could get no dress in a hurry Rules make her curse and crash “Now dear, do nothing rash” Out they all went; dressed up “Don’t spill the champagne cup” Bitterness and jealousy flooded Ne’er felt so cold blooded Creativity was oh so surely needed To make a dress floaty and beaded She refused to miss the ball tonight She’s make a dress before twilight The poor materials on offer Would produce such a shocker But blessed with skills, success Was a given with this ball dress Armed with her tools and glue vats Her materials: J-cloths and beer mats Will ruin her father’s dear collection Not even genius gets his affection An hour later she looked in wonder At her beer matted dress; t’was no blunder She amazed herself; smiled with reverence All would greet her with deference The j-cloth and beer mat donned girl Oh how she danced, all but a whirl Her father, he scowled and stomped No matter; in love she was swamped |