Her face is white as porcelain

Her lips are thin and red

And as the concertina plays

He tilts her fragile head

The voice that he embodies

Has a churlish, silly sound

He helps her do a courtesy

And then makes her spin around

Her floral dress, conservative

Her frilly blouse too tight

Those fallen locks have lost their shine

But who is she to fight?

She’s at the mercy of his hands

She doesn’t have control

The only life she’s ever known

Is as a passive doll

She’s tired of the girlishness

The way he moves her hands

She hates the curtseys and the nods

The way he makes her stand

And suddenly as if possessed

Viola takes her reins

Decides to pull on her own strings

And breaks free from her chains

She smiles a smile so devilish

It almost cracks her cheeks

Does a crazy, happy dance

And turns to him to speak

She tells him with authority

That it’s time for a change

She’s had enough of mannerisms

Feeling so restrained

Viola takes a flying leap

And breaks her string of pearls

Shouts that she’s a woman now

And not some helpless girl

She tears her frilly blouse apart

Her hair is like a horse

Cascading down her ivory skin

With such unbridled force

Her pearls are swirling round the sky

That floral skirt is ripped

She steps into her own domain

And swings her sensual hips

She turns to the ventriloquist

Who stands their quite agast

Thanks him for the life she’s had

But adds, “It couldn’t last..

Inside each doll there is a soul

That longs for more than pity,

We women want to be ourselves

It’s boring playing pretty”

Viola so vivaciously

Vibrates with violet power

She’s waited all her life for this

It is her finest hour

She spins him once and twice around

And takes her fallen laces

Ties his hands and feet with them

She laughs as her heart races

Viola’s purple passion pumps

Right through her female brain

“Cause even dolls rebel you know,

And now I hold the reigns”