If you are more blitz than Ritz they’ll tell you every day
That she’s just too proud to take you out her dreams a frock away
And oh , her majesty knows, that damn fine girls need damn fine clothes


Young girls dance in arabesques
So swiftly through the dark
And they’re haunted by those hounds of men
who search for tell-tale hearts
And oh, we are still know
That it’s far too hard to ever let them go


don’t lose sight of what you were
Hoping to be
blood stains a rosary, and by night
the choir’s screaming set that child alight


If you long for foreign seas
when winter proves too cruel
They’ll be spitting from the balconies
The drunken priest’s a fool
God knows, he’s too poor to go
Begging down there on the streets below


Red lace from another class
Tied loosely round their necks
And there’s young love bound in blood stained gowns
They almost lost their heads..
And oh, her majesty knows
That borrowed highs aren’t worth the awful lows