You have always thought since you were a little girl That all you had to do was do a pretty twirl, and the world would fall into your pretty lap with your fancy silk cravat, and your simpering sighs.
You. Make. Me. Sick.
Twirl little girl, If you may, To twirl and twirl another day in your fancy house with your sparkling jewels, they're what you call 'bargaining tools'.
Of pearl or diamond they're not made lasting not in the rain, Melting sugar, simpering dew, puddle at my feet, adieu, adieu.