Caution In The Wind

 
Every day the same theme
Day after day
Morning, noon, and night
Without a single change of pace
Their roles are defined
They know no other way

A baker’s daughter
Pretty lass
With flour on her cheek
Kneads the dough
And bakes the bread
Without break she toils all day

A noble’s daughter
Delicate thing
All dressed up in silk and lace
Powdered with rouge
In idle boredom
She passes her days
Till she is found a good match

Pretty ladies
Lowborn and highborn
Lovely ladies
Would you not change your pace?
Would you not change your tune?
Toss your flour in the air
Rip apart your gowns of silk
Get rid of common sense
And let fate decide
The path on which
You now shall go