She said

Come in my dear,

You're looking tired tonight.

Your bath is drawn, let me loosen your tie

And fix you your usual drink.



He settles back,

Takes a magazine,

Kicks off his shoes, as he studies the form

Of every appealing soubrette.

But where are the flowers that he used to bring?

Every endearing remark

Reminds her of passionarte promises,

That he only made in the dark.



In her bed,

She wants to shout at the back of his head

Look at me, look at me, look at me I'm afraid

See what it's come to,

I'm just your mistress and maid.



The wine is warm

But the dinner is cold.

The look in his eye tells her it won't be long

'Till the girls on the page come to life.

And they'll get the flowers that he used to bring

With every endearing remark,

And all of the passionate promises

He'll never fulfil in the dark.



In their bed,

She wants to shout at the back of his head

Look at me, look at me, now that I'm not afraid.

See what it's come to,

I'm not your mistress and maid.



See what it's come to,

I'm not your mistress annf maid