(Aristocrats:)

Thus all fairy stories end

Only an actress would pretend

Affairs of state are her latest play

Eight shows a week, two matinees

My how the worm begins to turn

When will the chorus girl ever learn?

My how the worm begins to turn

When will the chorus girl ever learn?



(Eva:)

The chorus girl hasn't learned the lines you'd like to hear

She won't go scrambling over the backs of the poor to be accepted

By making donations just large enough to the correct charity

She won't be president of your wonderful societies of philanthropy

Even if you asked her to be

As you should have asked her to be



The actress hasn't learned the lines you'd like to hear

She won't join your clubs, she won't dance in your halls

She won't help the hungry once a month at your tombolas

She'll simply take control as you disappear



(Che:)

Forgive my intrusion, but fine as those sentiments sound

Little has changed for us peasants down here on the ground

I hate to sound childish, ungrateful, I don't like to moan

But do you now represent anyone's cause but your own?



(Eva:)

Everything done will be justified by my foundation