For almost 10 months I have dreamt of the day
When tennis shoes and flip flops are not my choice everyday The time when new mothers get their groove back,
And the soles of your feet, cry like alley cats,
Out on the town, no pumping in sight,
Champagne & sushi and oysters on ice,
Louboutin’s mama’s coming, ankles hold tight.
Our Louboutin who art in Paris, Hallowed be thy soles,
Thy platform shoe, or thy peep toe, On cobbled or rain soaked streets, Give us this day your daily creations, And forgive those imitators,
As we forgive those who blister our feet,
Elevate us with stilettos,
Delivered in brown boxes,
For Louboutin is the master, the magician of footwear, Forever and ever Pigalle...
