Lullaby, oh! Here's the rain,
Each drop is crooning on my roof,
It makes me sleepy but alas-
If I don't stand my dress may wrinkle.
However I don't own a bed,
One must make sacrifices.
The droplets sparkle in the night,
I love to watch their rhythmic waltz,
I yearn to join in but alas-
My lovely dress may suffer.
However I don't have a partner,
And have never learned the steps.
So many nights my youth repeated,
Spent alone indoors like this,
Now my fingers pop and crack,
Every time I tie my bow.
However I'd rather be afflicted yet bewitching,
Than flourishing yet plain.
Who would guess this little hovel,
Holds a lifetime of clothing, and I?
It's a secret treasure chest,
Turned resting place to one aged doll.
However if I'm entombed with my caches,
Will they help me waltz with heavens rains?