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She fills the rich kitsch niche where she sits Making chit-chat, this and that, from the bits Consumed, perfumed, detracts the room despite Glowing, knowing she can head for the limelight She´s too rich for her men She won´t stay, what a shame A shame She won´t fit in his world She exists for the game A shame Tricky repertoire Words flying ´round Picky seminar Bound to be drowned in the sound Sticky shirt and tie Play ´Bottoms Up´ in the bar Icky, fly guy - why, She´s nastier by far It´s appeasing how she wanna flaunt her fur His mind´s but a blur He´s derailing from his train of thought Doing not what he ought and was taught He´s trying to flick quick, but she waged the pages stick Someone must have gone click, click, click, click Can´t see what´s new, he doesn´t have a clue Of what to do with the woman he thought that he knew She´s too rich for her men She won´t stay, what a shame A shame She won´t fit in his world She exists for the game A shame

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