Dear little Prudence,
run far and widefrom the entangling vines.
They call to you in temptation.
Reaching towards and snapping at your
Dance your way out,
Oh prudence from the south,
Swing away from the beguiling smiles of men who pat beside them, the ivory sheets.
Beckoning for you to sit beside them, although these sixteen years of yours in this moralistic world would've,
Probably, taught you otherwise.
Oh dear prudent one,
How times have changed you, and carved into your frail translucent palms,
The name of the one who holds your heart, tight
The same callous hands that tug at your veins.
Mere strings tied to your limp, tired arms.
With your lovely ballerina slippers,
Mace and satin - twirling and nodding,
Gracefully, smile heartlessly and unfeelingly still, in the cold while spotlight.
Twirl - nod – smile,at the empty rows of seats.
This echoing colleseum of unwatching eyes.
At present, prudence, you are alone.
Possibly the only one, in this wayward town who still believes,
In everything you're told is right and
Even the rigidity of those rights and wrongs.
So sway to the words of a jilted Madonna.
Dance little lady dance.
Sway, sway away from all dem bad things.
Sway, sway away from all dem bad things