look, there goes miss caroline.
listen to her long loud whine
as she holds tight a glass of cheap wine.
blabbering like an old fat swine
only to be slaughtered next in line.
next she does is sip, slip, and slide
as people around her stare in sublime.
she takes her shoe and puts on a smile
then exits the room asking for some dime.
oh what a shame, miss caroline.
what have you done with your time?
she speaks soft as if a pantomime,
“i have yet to love a man in springtime
and it’s sad longing for a man i can call mine.”