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Theatre Of Tragedy - Play
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She fills the rich kitsch niche where she sits
Making chit-chat, this and that, from the bits
Consumed, perfumed, detracts the room despite
Glowing, knowing she can head for the limelight

She´s too rich for her men 
She won´t stay, what a shame
A shame
She won´t fit in his world
She exists for the game
A shame

Tricky repertoire
Words flying ´round
Picky seminar
Bound to be drowned in the sound
Sticky shirt and tie
Play ´Bottoms Up´ in the bar
Icky, fly guy - why,
She´s nastier by far

It´s appeasing how she wanna flaunt her fur
His mind´s but a blur
He´s derailing from his train of thought
Doing not what he ought and was taught

He´s trying to flick quick, but she waged the pages stick
Someone must have gone click, click, click, click 
Can´t see what´s new, he doesn´t have a clue 
Of what to do with the woman he thought that he knew

She´s too rich for her men 
She won´t stay, what a shame
A shame
She won´t fit in his world
She exists for the game
A shame