I go by the name of Morgan Sin,
I design, I sew, and generally don’t fit in.
I like it this way,
I really must say,
For it keeps me away from the gin.
‘It could be told,’ has said my kin,
‘A story of old, ’bout a girl who could be a bit dim;
But you’d be lead astray
For thinking this way,
She’ll spin you around on a whim!’
So follow my joy expelled from within,
From my lunch, my machine, my patience and pin!
Come with me and play,
We’d do this all day;
With needles and teacups we’ll win!