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