She ain't real friendly for no good reason
|
Claims her life's been filled with treason
|
Says she's cursed by a toothless gypsy
|
Wonderin' why her life's so greasy
|
|
With double blades she dulls her senses
|
Spiteful girl by all consensus
|
All her life it's been the same
|
Hell she don't even like her name
|
|
She longs to be the ingenue
|
To leading men tall dark and handsome
|
But now the play has passed her by... oh my
|
There's no exit
|
Oh no there's no way out at all
|
There's no exit
|
|
Jumped a train in Italy
|
On her way to gay Paris
|
Down in the Loire Valley
|
She got sho drunk she couldn't see
|
Stumblin' through a metro station
|
In a mood for conversation
|
Fortune teller read her palm
|
Told her that her time was gone
|
|
She longs to be the ingenue
|
To leading men tall dark and handsome
|
But now the play has passed her by... oh my
|
There's no exit
|
Oh no there's no way out at all
|
There's no exit
|
|
She used to model as a child
|
With Bardot's looks and Gigi's laughter
|
Enfant terrible creation
|
Of a sockless adman's mind
|
Played her first recital at the tender age of nine
|
Strains of Clare de Lune
|
Mater sipping wine
|
Pater in the garden gazing
|
At those ponies grazing
|
The spoils of a lonely child
|
|
She longs to be the ingenue
|
To leading men tall dark and handsome
|
Once just a jet-trash kid
|
Down at Les Halles
|
Her frequent trips to Nice
|
In Monaco she was always welcome
|
She was embraced by all society
|
Along the way she lost her charms
|
Now the play has passed her by
|
|
-----------------
|
The Ingenue
|
| Little Feat |
