Wanted, wanted, Dolores Haze.
Hair: brown, lips: scarlet,
Age: five thousand three hundred days,
Profession: none, or starlet.

Where are you hiding Dolores Haze?
Why are you hiding, darling?
(I talk in a daze, I walk in a maze,
I cannot get out, said the starling).

Where are you riding, Dolores Haze,
What make is your magic carpet?
Is a cream cougar the present craze,
And where are you parked, my car pet?

Oh Dolores, that jukebox hurts!
But are you still dancing, darlin'?
Both in worn Levis, both in torn T-shirts,
And I in my corner, snarlin'.

Happy, happy is gnarled McFate,
Touring the states with his childwife,
Plowing his molly in every state
Among the protected wildlife.

Oh Dolly! My folly. Her eyes were vair
And never closed when I kissed her.
Know and old perfume called Soleil Vert?
Are you from Paris, Mister?

L'autre soir un aire froid d'opéra m'alita
Son félé: bien fol est qui s'i fie
Il neige, le décor s'écroule Lolita,
Lolita, qu'ai j'ai fait de ta vie?

Dying, dying, Lolita Haze,
Of hate and remorse I am dying,
And again my hairy fist I raise
And again I hear you crying.

Officer, Officer there they go,
In the rain where the lighted store is!
And her socks are white and I love her so!
And her name is Haze, Dolores.

Officer, Officer there they are!
Dolores Haze and her lover!
Whip out your gun and follow that car,
Now tumble out and take cover.

Wanted, wanted: Dolores Haze.
Her dream gray gaze never flinches.
Ninety pounds is all she weighs,
With a height of sixty inches.

My car is limping, Dolores Haze,
And the last long lap in the hardest.
And I shall be dumped where the weed decays,
And the rest is rust and stardust.
--Vladimir Nabokov