I am in a carriage
This carriage is wood
Decor of gilded frames
The cushions are soft
Covered in velvet I oft, sit upon their comfort whilst going to Sir James
I’m gilded too, from my collar to my shoes, in jewels I am enamored by their glare
Through town I shall ride, with greatness and pride, whilst the townsfolk stop what they are doing and stare
I hide my grey eyes and with repulsion I gulp, trying not to take in the air
The stench it is rancid my throat burns like acid
The peasantry aren’t pleasantries I swear
All this for a game of croquet, I wish I was elsewhere
But my father had ordered that it’s good for the soul and I’m sure there’s more to it, I know
For Sir James is quite rich and I am sure he might pitch, a marriage proposal so I’ll go
I like Sir James, he is quite amusing though why live here, it is quite confusing
But we’ll see when we’ve entered his big shiny gates, whether or not he has made this mistake
For you never can quite tell, whether or not inside, there’s that smell that will make you cockeyed
For as a country girl I know, that the smells of the doe cannot be noticed within
So let’s sit back and hope very much, that it is the same with him!
