Carnival Queen.

Through the buzz of an orchestra of sound,
the tinkle of instruments, the howl of a hound,
pushing aside velvets and satin, rich beautiful silk,
the tingling smell of spices, fruit, meat and milk,

a tapestry of colour, marbling and together link,
ruby red, buzzing blue, zingy yellow, plunging pink,
creating a gleaming rainbow, a wave of emotions,
this place if full of it, peace, fun, and massive commotion,

she's sitting there, on a pile of amber cushions, full of joy,
with a bowl of violate grapes, using vibrant apples as a juggling toy,
her hair swept round her in fiery curls, flaming red, eyes alert,
with a heart of steel, petals for lips, nothing can stab, nothing can hurt,

She's wearing a magical, floaty garment that flares out around her,
and thick gold bangles that clink as she moves, soft poncho of fur,
feet bare, smeared with mud, nails mysterious green, sharp as shells,
she sings so loud, her whispers are the wind, her voice is a peel of bells,

a monkey bounces by, creamy as chocolate, she strokes a lions mane,
she's blissfully oblivious to the rumours passed round, glittered, gloried with fame,
and when she stands up so gingerly, she dances for us like no stars out of reach.
She smells of wonderful moist earth, strong perfume, smoking wood on a beach,

bells on her ankles clang too the beat, her arms swish as she walks,
she sees her whole life in front of her, it tints her sad, and as she goes she talks,
“my world is no world, it makes people dizzy,
it turns them upside down, makes them go frizzy.”

and as we walk she points and describes, a clown with a fake smile,
the lady with a beard, and elephant with a poor style,
gypsy carts painted to show the people/things within,
the three headed man with an awful temper, kicks people in the shin,

and when I we think we've herd it all there's a tight rope walker up high,
the human canon ball who yells as he's launched too the sky,
the seal who balances the bright ball on his nose,
the lady who, in less than a second, changes her clothes,
a flying pig scampers across the dusty, musty ground,
the mouse man who won't make a single sound,
the guy serving hot dogs days and days old,
the man who sets himself on fire and complains he's cold,

through the swirling colours, a floor of different tiles,
the carnival queen chuckles to herself and smiles,
and she looks around with that spark at every act and stall,
and she secretly knows, purses her full lips, she has it all...

aThrough the buzz of an orchestra of sound,
the tinkle of instruments, the howl of a hound,
pushing aside velvets and satin, rich beautiful silk,
the tingling smell of spices, fruit, meat and milk,

a tapestry of colour, marbling and together link,
ruby red, buzzing blue, zingy yellow, plunging pink,
creating a gleaming rainbow, a wave of emotions,
this place if full of it, peace, fun, and massive commotion,

she's sitting there, on a pile of amber cushions, full of joy,
with a bowl of violate grapes, using vibrant apples as a juggling toy,
her hair swept round her in fiery curls, flaming red, eyes alert,
with a heart of steel, petals for lips, nothing can stab, nothing can hurt,

She's wearing a magical, floaty garment that flares out around her,
and thick gold bangles that clink as she moves, soft poncho of fur,
feet bare, smeared with mud, nails mysterious green, sharp as shells,
she sings so loud, her whispers are the wind, her voice is a peel of bells,

a monkey bounces by, creamy as chocolate, she strokes a lions mane,
she's blissfully oblivious to the rumours passed round, glittered, gloried with fame,
and when she stands up so gingerly, she dances for us like no stars out of reach.
She smells of wonderful moist earth, strong perfume, smoking wood on a beach,

bells on her ankles clang too the beat, her arms swish as she walks,
she sees her whole life in front of her, it tints her sad, and as she goes she talks,
“my world is no world, it makes people dizzy,
it turns them upside down, makes them go frizzy.”

and as we walk she points and describes, a clown with a fake smile,
the lady with a beard, and elephant with a poor style,
gypsy carts painted to show the people/things within,
the three headed man with an awful temper, kicks people in the shin,

and when I we think we've herd it all there's a tight rope walker up high,
the human canon ball who yells as he's launched too the sky,
the seal who balances the bright ball on his nose,
the lady who, in less than a second, changes her clothes,
a flying pig scampers across the dusty, musty ground,
the mouse man who won't make a single sound,
the guy serving hot dogs days and days old,
the man who sets himself on fire and complains he's cold,

through the swirling colours, a floor of different tiles,
the carnival queen chuckles to herself and smiles,
and she looks around with that spark at every act and stall,
and she secretly knows, purses her full lips, she has it all...