I don't need a man anymore, unless he fixes washers in taps. Unless he can change a fuse and amuse me. Perhaps. He can keep me occupied, That will never be denied. My space can never be invaded, I love my own place. Adore my own space, never will I step down and lose face. I'm all dressed in leather, but wrapped up in lace. I left silly little notes of love hidden in your room. You found them and you giggled, The big hard man stuck in his place. He never realised his hard woman was made of leather and lace. (c)Livvi