I look around at the booths full of ladies and gentlemen
And all I see are plenty of mental men
They have painted-on grins from ear-to-ear
But their hearts are the same as the atmosphere:
Their happiness must have wanted to disappear.
Then
One booth stands out
It is full of colors, but I feel some doubt
I tiptoe over
And my feelings of desolateness sink
In my line of view comes something fluffy and pink
Its journey of knitting up the fabric of someone's bliss
With my taste buds, it says hello with a sugary and loving kiss
My stomach fills up with pure and simple goodness
And the people's aura are finally forgiven of their sickness.
The cloud, taking shelter within my willing mouth, dissipates
While it also captivates.
I still inhale the sugary sweet coating my sticky and picky fingers
And the cotton candy makes me one of the believers.