The store mannequin Was rejected, Her stats didn't comply For a window show To show its wares To a town of passersby.
Her Do wasn't quite couture, Her ******* were just such, The arms that loped Across her chest Looked a little butch. Her belly with its ripples, Was all a bit too much; Her ***** profile it was thought Was maybe just a touch... Her hips which had male appeal, Were thought a tad too light. Her legs rose up like lamp posts, Her feet a a smidgeon tight. Hanging, covering all her faults, A dress not draping right.
The window dresser Stamped UNSUITABLE Across her harlequin face, And packed her with RETURN TO SENDER In the original crate.