An ingénue's delight
She can't find anything she likes
Only the finest foods and wines
And satin robes make up her mind
Incessantly
I'll reduce your life
I'll make you think about it twice, incessantly
Oh when the roses turn to grey
I'll know I'll know I'll know
Your beauty's bound to be passé
I'll know I'll know I'll know
Oh when the dark dissolves (turns) to day
I'll know I'll know I'll know
Your beauty's like paper mache
(Now just a charade)
I'll know I'll know I'll know
She'll connect the polka dot on her sun dress
Conceited rationale
You run from your only friends
No one believes you
They'll just treat you to cocaine
Your voguish nature and nomenclature
Have an expiry date 1