Playing Peek-A-Boo through the bushes.
I see a daisy, a damsel in distress, I wonder to myself;
a flower that has never been caressed.
Shadows growing from broken plastic,
once before a friend use to say,
we can never escape the lunar eclipse of desirable silicone acid;
formed into a solid that can't be unborn.
You picked me and masked me,
to get into my foul places of your fingertip that
so gently runs down the backside of my stems.
You play this music with your tongue.
Yet I hear the screams, the excitement of pleasure,
but I don't quite understand; it's from a foreign land.
Your gestures are quite gullible,
but that seafoam that you wrap me in; coats my body in leather.
I'm a Daisy fast dressing dashing girl,
that likes to be dressed in feathers.
Take me by the hand and dance with me,
you make me so light, but I know your so clever.
Fake sounds having you guided by my name,
yet you call me to only pose on one knee.
I say yes and yes and you call me your angelic flower,
the rose petals and nothing but the best.