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”