Alas those social climbing days are done
I weep as widow now alone Im rich
That self inflicted wound of his own gun
I was a courtesan of carnal pitch
I strolled the streets in cheapest cloth and stitch
I soaked in wine the contraceptive sock
I feared the sore and scab of pubic itch
I serviced randy clients around the clock
I caught the stare of him of noble stock
I set up shop in his huge hotel suite
To honey hair and rosy cheeks theyd flock
I played out prettiest girl theyd ever greet
I rose to mistress first I pandered maids
I finished wife as beauty wilts then fades
Chorus maids domesticae hushjelper
