Hello you straight-laced lady,
Dressed in white but your shoes arent clean.
Painted them up with polish
In the hope we cant see where youve been.
The smiling face that youve worn
To greet me rising at morning --
Sent me out to work for my score.
Please me and say what its for.
Give me the straight-laced promise
And not the pathetic lie.
Tie me down with your ribbons
And sulk when I ask you why.
Your sunday paper voice cries
Demanding truths I deny.
The bitter-sweet kiss you pretended
Is offered, our affair mended.
Sossity: youre a woman.
Society: youre a woman.
All of the tears youre wasting
Are for yourself and not for me.
Its sad to know youre aging
Sadder still to admit Im free.
Your immature physical toy has grown,
Too young to enjoy at last your straight-laced agreement:
Woman, you were too old for me.
Sossity: youre a woman.
Society: youre a woman.