Begone Oh Lofty Wenches to your Catwalks in the sky
Begone and take thine graven image from before mine eye
Stalk your way to paradise on six- inch, spike- heeled shoes
And prattle to the Maker about fashion's changing hues

Dent His ear eternally with gossip of rich men
Force Him to endure your endless tripe, and then
Reduce Him to a jellied heap with just one awesome stare
Before you slip your tops off to bombard Him with your 'pair'

Not those which He did give you, Oh No, dare I should jest!
But ones which have been tweaked and puffed, deflated and the rest
Show cheekbones which do arch, as none should ever do
Then divest of all your clothing just to see what else is new

To strut, to stalk, to pout, to pose, all this is everlasting
Until such day as we can be, of you, completely blasting
Get off our screens, out of our faces, begone before our eyes
To torture not imperfect souls, from heaven's fluffy skies

Depart at once, unto the all- eternal, divine- divide
And get thee hence from here before my lustful, desperate eyes
I wish to be as graceful, as tall and slim as thee
Yet as I can't, not now or ever, I wish thou not to be

I'd rather live a giant, in a world where all are small
Than live my life a dwarf, with all around me tall
And worst of all, false virgins reign, visions of ideals
To which I never will attain, a midget in high heels!