Vanity Fair

She left her school for the factory
From pocket money to a salary
From a pac-a-mac to a compact case
And every morning she inspects her face
She discovers pulling pints in pubs
That the good looks will never cover up for
Her dumbness in taking the stock
Sees her reflection in a butcher’s shop
She finds it all quite rare
That her meat’s all vanity fair
She has her eyes on medallion men
Who get her home on the dot at ten
She combs her hair when she gets excused
The deal she wants always ends up screwed
Paints her nails on the bathroom scales
Gargles her breath like a landed whale
Her beauty is as deep as her skin
Keeps her eyebrows in a tobacco tin
She poses foot on the chair
Coconut shy but vanity fair
In her vanity case her compact case
In her compact case her eyes
Not bad for a sister
But her vanity’s fair and her sense of humour’s dry
She comes home late with another screw loose
She swears to have had just a pineapple juice
Falls asleep fully clothed in her bed
With her makeup remover by her head
And she might not be all there
But her dream’s all vanity fair