Where is my bra, where did it go?
That is all I wish to know.
Elusive thing, that breast supporter,
Which gave my bosom warmth and quarter.
Where hath it gone, where could it be?
This thing which still doth hide from me!
My wits are gone, my patience spent,
I curse my bra's abandonment!
The cold outside will banish doubt
That nipples frigid, doth stick out!
My breasts will sag, will hang, will bounce,
As, bosom unfettered, I flounce;
With breast exceeding size of ounce,
All hope of dignity they trounce!
This goddamned bra, I curse thy name!
My breasts shall never be the same!
Is this a test, some mamm'ry quiz,
To try my - wait, now, there it is!
What sweet triumph, I clasp it now
Around my trunk. I shall avow
My love for straps over my shoulder,
My love for precious bosom-holder!
My bra, I found you, O what glee,
That article returns to me!
O undergarment of my heart,
No longer shall I seem a tart.
All other clothing, say au revoir,
In light of shining, perfect bra!