She is the apple of his eye,
His little girl next door,
A red velvet hem hits her thigh,
Leaving to the imagination, nothing more.
He leans for a kiss here,
A hand on the knee compressed,
Red Velvet will be his darling,
His princess in her dress.
She stumbles into his car,
The driver never looks back,
Soon the pressure gives in,
The prince mounts his attack.
With hands around her neck,
A scream is pointless, never heard,
He asks her if she likes it,
He begs for dirty words.
Her silence here is muffled,
Shrieks and cry's become white noise,
Who knew Red Velvet was so popular
With young princes, little boys.
The finale is now over,
She is pushed out of his car,
Her makeup smeared, dress in shreds,
She lays upward towards the stars.
The car pulls away,
She lies naked under the sky.
"I am a piece of red velvet cake,
I am no Queen of Versaille."
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