Lyric Play

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.