Hello, you straight-laced lady,
Dressed in white but your shoes aren't clean
Painted them up with polish
In the hope we can't see where you've been.
The smiling face that you've worn
To greet me rising at morning
Send me out for my score
Please me and say what it's for.



Give me the straight-laced promise
And not the pathetic lie.
Tie me down with your ribbons
And sulk when I ask you why
Your Sunday paper voice cries
Demanding truths I deny.
The bitter-sweet kiss you pretended
Is offered, our affair mended.
Sossity, you're a woman.
Society, you're a woman.

All of the tears you're wasting
Are for yourself and not for me.
Sad to know you're ageing,
Sadder still to admit I'm free
Your immature physical toy
Has grown too young to enjoy.
At last, your straight-laced agreement.
Woman, you were too old for me.
Sossity, you're a woman.
Society, you're a woman.