Autumnal Meaning / Somewhere in Valley River

Victoria's Secret alarms me.
There's money in the air,
Crazed women, heavy and frail,
Each throwing panties here and there.

It's an assembly line.
You admire a bra or two,
When suddenly "Wabam!"
An attendant; "What can I do for you?"

Henry Ford could not have done better,
He with the gears and the automatics -
These women have bras and panties,
They're hard-boiled fanatics.

It's a "What's your size?"

"You look like A 34D,"

"Right this way!

Come along with me!"

They stuff you in rooms,

Whom have nice big mirrors,

To inspect your chest, 

and realize your fears. 

So they offer you alternatives,

Throw lace your way,

Tell you about pricing,

Until your face is gray.

They have sales for your needs,
Swimsuits and yoga pants,
Everything possible,
All for overpriced romance.

You admire wands of mascara,
Oodles of bronzer,
Then there's a lady at your side,
Applying strange colors.

She's orange.
Soon you'll match!
Your eyelids bright blue,
Your knickers aghast!

So come to Vicky's,
Where grown women play,
and where men avoid,
But are dragged through all day.