That's Life

The bubbles of wealth used to rise in the glass and tingle on my lips. The label that I wore with verve Skimmed lightly cross my hips Hair in fashionable disarray I’d sashay round the town Always remembering to cross My knees whenever I sat down I was finished y’know in Switzerland. I folded napkins there And learnt to act in a modest way That behove a lady fair In scarlet I went hunting And found myself a beau Not the handsomest of gentlemen But he did have a chateau I bathed in foreign sunshine and royalty were friends But it was just illusion And soon the summer ends And now its only tea That’s sipped from paper cups No more the trips to Henley or Badminton or such Gold has now turned silver and my hips are not my own and should I try to cross my knees I’d likely break a bone