It's at times such as this she'd be tempted to spit

If she wasn't so ladylike

She imagines how she might have lived back when legends and history collide

So she looks to her prince finding he's so charmingly slumped at her side

Those days are recalled on the gallery wall

And she's waiting for passion or humour to strike



What shall we do, what shall we do with all this useless beauty?



Good Friday arrived, the sky darkened on time

'Til he almost began to negotiate

She held his head like a baby and said "It's okay if you cry"

Now he wants her to dress as if you couldn't guess

He desires to impress his associates

But he's part ugly beast and Hellenic deceased

So she finds that the mixture is hard to deny



Chorus



She won't practice the looks from the great tragic books

That were later defaced, disgraced celluloid

It don't even make sense but you can bet



If she isn't a sweetheart, a plaything or pet

The film turns her into an unveiled threat

Nonsense prevails, modesty fails

Grace and virtue turn into stupidity

While the calendar fades almost all barricades to a pale compromise

Our leaders have feasts on the backsides of beasts

They still think they're the gods of antiquity

If something you missed didn't even exist

It was just an ideal

Is that such a surprise?



Chorus