Well, I once knew a girl, every night was a mission
Of ruby stilettos and silk sequinned gowns
She said, they say that love is a war of attrition
But I'm the one getting worn down
With too many nights spent selecting my clothes
And too many let downs from too many rogues
And I'll soon be so ruined by glamour it can't be reversed
In short, I am cursed
And I said, Little Libertine
Eating crème brulée for breakfast
Doesn't qualify you for Rosetti's scene
So paint you nails maroon
But supplementing sentences with French
Won't bring the Belle Époque back very soon
But still you float on some Fauxhemian breeze
Till real penury brings you down to your knees
And the next thing you know, you go searching through wardrobes
To find your most valuable shoes
And there's really no glamour to selling your heels
No style to strategically spacing your meals
So you don't have to spend any money on buying more food
In short, you're screwed
And I said Little Libertine
You think decadence decayed you
But your slate was never marred enough to strike it clean
So shed your silk and lace
Oscar Wilde or Baudelaire would
Never bat an eyelid at your painted face
Oh, Little Libertine
Eating crème brulée for breakfast
Doesn't qualify you for Rosetti's scene
So paint you nails maroon
But supplementing sentences with French
Won't bring the Belle Époque back very soon
From your tiny debaucheries, all you have learned
Is one clever trick for the stylish Flâneur
Turn up overdressed to mundane situations
And underdressed to those that count
And they'll think you're involved in a scandal they've not heard about