In scarlet gowns and golden locks
she runs, a little fire fox.
She laughs and sings and cries and talks.
She takes the bruises and the knocks,
and as I peer outside this box
I’ll bless that little fire fox.
For she’s the one who leaves my blues
for pinks and reds– my greatest muse.
And I will always break the locks
to save my little fire fox.