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Мэриэнн Фэйтфулл Мэриэнн Фэйтфуллальтернативная певица

The Ballad of Sexual Dependency

Now there's a man, the living tool of Satan

He charges forth while others are debating

Conniving, cocky knave with all the trimmings

I know one thing will trim him down ?‚?— women.

In women he meets deep authority,

In them he feels his old dependency.





He sniggers at the Good Book, mocks the priss and prim,

Does anything for pay if it will pay

And since he knows what ladies do to him

He thrusts them well out of his way.

All through the day he swears

He's self denying, then dusk descends

And once again he's lying.



They're all the same in meeting love's confusion

Poor noble souls get blotted in illusion

The one who swore he could escape the clinches

Who is it that entangles him, wenches

It fain resists their lush authority

Before him stands his old dependency.





He harked the ten Commandments

Trod the tried and true, would godly be and Golden Rule obey.

For lunch ate frugally, a grape a two,

Survived on one pure thought a day.

He screamed,

Мэриэнн Фэйтфулл

The Ballad of Sexual Dependency / Мэриэнн Фэйтфулл

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