She wants me to call her Kay

She’s the girl that I mean.
You know, she’s just fifteen
And lives a little away.
She wants me to call her Kay.
Youth has no price.
I just suppose she’s nice
With a smile as a joker
And beauty as high power.
But I guess about something
I’m really wondering.
She writes letters in Dutch,
A thing I do like so much
That’s the taste of blue ink
Which seems like a fresh drink.
I enjoy myself at every sign
Her fairy hands design.