Interpret:

Theatre of Tragedy

Album:

Assembly

She fills the rich kitsch niche where she sits 
Making chit-chat, this and that, from the bits 
Consumed, perfumed, detracts the room despite 
Glowing, knowing she can head for the limelight 
She's too rich for her men 
She won't stay, what a shame 
A shame She won't fit in his world 
She exists for the game 
A shame Tricky repertoire 
Words flying 'round 
Picky seminar 
Bound to be drowned in the sound 
Sticky shirt and tie 
Play 'Bottoms Up' in the bar 
Icky, fly guy - why, 
She's nastier by far 
It's appeasing how she wanna flaunt her fur 
His mind's but a blur 
He's derailing from his train of thought 
Doing not what he ought and was taught 
He's trying to flick quick, but she waged the pages stick 
Someone must have gone click, click, click, click 
Can't see what's new, he doesn't have a clue 
Of what to do with the woman he thought that he knew 
She's too rich for her men 
She won't stay, what a shame 
A shame She won't fit in his world 
She exists for the game A shame.