| Hetty said if you ask me nicely
|
| I’ll write you up well
|
| Don’t tell me twice
|
| Or «e you directly
|
| Or you’ll pay the price
|
| I’ll peel off your skin like a thin veneer
|
| If someone tells me something that I didn’t hear from you
|
| Who’s got the dope?
|
| Who’s got the potential?
|
| Hetty O’Hara Confidential
|
| Those were different days
|
| Those were different drugs
|
| From a gold-plated palace with the half-mast flags
|
| To a chalk lined body that was full of slugs
|
| She was trading favors for footnote plugs
|
| Who’s got the needle?
|
| Who is fit to burst?
|
| A morphine tattoo on an unquenchable thirst
|
| Who’s got your girlfriend?
|
| And who had her first?
|
| Reading her column was essential
|
| Hetty O’Hara Confidential
|
| She could kill a man with a single stroke
|
| She is not the one you want to provoke
|
| If you can’t take the heat
|
| Or you can’t take a joke
|
| Who’s got the dope?
|
| Who’s got the potential?
|
| Hetty O’Hara Confidential
|
| If there was a gentleman caller
|
| To a comely wench
|
| And a snooping peeper
|
| In a coat of trench
|
| She’d place a line or two
|
| At the foot of the page
|
| A cue or a clue
|
| To the latest rage
|
| With your true dimensions
|
| And your actual age
|
| Trade a life of scandal
|
| For a career on the stage
|
| These little things seem inconsequential
|
| Except to Hetty O’Hara Confidential
|
| On the night he came home
|
| From the debutante ball
|
| Passed out drunk on the bathroom floor
|
| Call-girl called after taking a peek
|
| At the secret drawer of atomic secrets
|
| Repeating something that I whispered about
|
| They have to take it
|
| But they can’t dish it out
|
| Who’s cleaning up his act?
|
| And breaking the bank?
|
| But unfortunately didn’t remember to thank me
|
| But now the rumor is doing the rounds
|
| That his only friends
|
| Are villains and scoundrels
|
| Her reputation curled like yellow smoke
|
| She named the wrong man in the story she broke
|
| She had an unfortunate character trait
|
| The irresistible impulse to assassinate
|
| But the damage she did was quite substantial
|
| Hetty O’Hara Confidential
|
| They’ve got witch trials now
|
| With witches to spare
|
| And a jukebox jury full of judgement and fury
|
| With bright neon dresses and porn star hair
|
| She was thrown to the wolves
|
| Or the dogs or the foxes
|
| Once they’d had their fill of shares and stocks
|
| Their gaze is unforgiving
|
| If your morals are lax
|
| Pointing manicured fingers and making a mockery
|
| With voices that sound like broken crockery
|
| Hetty said «I'm powerless and I feel alone…»
|
| Now everyone has a megaphone
|
| Who’s got the dope?
|
| Who’s got the potential?
|
| Hetty O’Hara Confidential |