Now there's a man, the living tool of Satan
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He charges forth while others are debating
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Conniving, cocky knave with all the trimmings
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I know one thing will trim him down ? women.
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In women he meets deep authority,
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In them he feels his old dependency.
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He sniggers at the Good Book, mocks the priss and prim,
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Does anything for pay if it will pay
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And since he knows what ladies do to him
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He thrusts them well out of his way.
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All through the day he swears
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He's self denying, then dusk descends
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And once again he's lying.
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They're all the same in meeting love's confusion
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Poor noble souls get blotted in illusion
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The one who swore he could escape the clinches
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Who is it that entangles him, wenches
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It fain resists their lush authority
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Before him stands his old dependency.
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He harked the ten Commandments
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Trod the tried and true, would godly be and Golden Rule obey.
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For lunch ate frugally, a grape a two,
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Survived on one pure thought a day.
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He screamed, "I've mastered it without half trying"
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Appears the moon and once again he's lying.
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Idiots ? all of them.
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The Ballad of Sexual Dependency
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| Marianne Faithfull |
