Red Riding Hood, red never looked so good. Removed her from the hood, took her to the forest/ near moose…Here’s a little secret she’s kin to Natasha and Boris/ A siren voice, all alone but can still let out a chorus.
Red streams/ - hobby at night is stacks of books - bed reads/ when she writes,
she writes books with bedtime dreams/
Concerning look, a smile took, stare for a while, she’ll keep staring long after you look.
She’s accusing you of dressing up as her granny - swipin’ all her books!