| It’s a splendid high waisted white flavored day
|
| It’s Pavlov with barking and feathers and pearls
|
| It’s porcelain, oh, so bored, faces and curls
|
| Buckles and gadgets and bell-bottom cools
|
| Strutting and studding and preening by the rules
|
| Cinderella for a day
|
| She’s a queen in white angel lace
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| In a dream that she fabricates
|
| From her last remaining green dollar bill
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| In a corrugated castle with so many fossilized remains
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| Plaster baked in Saks special powder and villafranchian lace
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| Long shanks, lean shanks with mini-skirted brims
|
| It’s a harem in conquest with alabaster skins
|
| Did I see you in Rome? |
| I wintered abroad
|
| Silky and creamy, they’re a peppered prime cause
|
| Of gallery flocking and rank hierarchy lockin'
|
| Arena behavior, one man to a hill
|
| In turtle neck style with clean verbal kills
|
| Pass the champagne, will you please?
|
| And let’s get on with the next social squeeze
|
| Female favored, custom tailored
|
| The strutting grounds for the posh aggregates
|
| Spilling, dividing and multiplying
|
| In a system of social rotating mates
|
| It’s a splendid high waisted white flavored day
|
| It’s Pavlov with barking and feathers and pearls
|
| It’s porcelain, oh, so bored, faces and curls
|
| Buckles and gadgets and bell-bottom cools
|
| Strutting and studding and preening by the rules
|
| By the rules
|
| Ah, the hell with the rules |