She's as lonely as a picture
And there's no one left to look
Upon her gilded glittering frame
Dangling from its hook.

Her angles have been touched and kissed
Caressed with crazy fingers
Wanting, needing something more
Than her eyes that never lingered.

But now she's back in the stock room
With the Klein that no one could stand
Waiting to be kissed and touched again
In that white-walled, art-filled land.