They stamp, they whistle, they swerve
For they're at the top of the stair
Caught in the worshipful gaze
Queen of all that she surveys
Like pink boar munch
She gently sways
And she says
I must have a match for my grand entree
It goes with the boots
and chrysanthemum spray
But if there's no match,
there'll be no cabaret
Just like
Marlene
Adee
She sings in a baritone key
She's sturdy but somehow feline
She walks the intergender line
And she'll win your heart,
as she won mine
I must have a match for my
Grandadre
It goes with the boots and
Crescent from the spray
Man, if there's no match,
there'll be no cab aret
A little too blue around the chin,
too many teeth in the grin
A suggestion of bulge at the seam,
but still within the spotlight's beam
When she pulls it off, she sells the dream.
I must have a match for my granddad's toy.
It goes with the bluets
and chrysanthemum spray.
But if there's no match,
there'll be no cabaret.
Her heels scar the floor as her feet
Step to a military beat
Feathers fly off in the twilight
She is a rather clumsy girl
But imperfection grew the part
I must have a match for my grand entree
It goes with the boots
and chrysanthemum spray
Man, if there's no match,
there'll be no cabaret
But if there's no march,
there'll be no cabaret