High Society

you started out that way you'd do anything to stay and keep your money boys made of silver and gold and keep your pekinese, turkish cigarettes and your lighter that looks like a gun so you marry your daddy with a different name that's sex and dying in high society sex and dying in high society sex and dying in high society sex and dying in high society that pretty man of yours the one hiding inside the director's clothes the one who calls you dear after banging away at you in the night that one's just got to go