Supermodel's Legs

Supermodel's Legs
This morning it occurred to me.
I might not look quite like the natural blonde.
And I can't help but feel conned.
The picture on the packet
showed a model with no baggage,
promising wild sex and marriage
with a big colour chart wand.

This morning it occurred to me.
I never quite have a supermodel's legs.
(Never in a million years!)
Unless I cut each one in half.
Become half and octopus-
the two become synonymous.
With cocaine, glamour, riches, beauty and crack.
I took a trip to the National Gallery
for something more refreshing in what Rueben
saw.
My supermodel's legs.
Think they were plucked from a
Rueben-esque world.
My supermodel's legs.
Look pretty crap on a
5-foot-4 girl.
Women, men and in-betweens-
why don't you just stop dieting?
Go bake, eat cake,
go cheer, drink beer!
Worrying is boring!
If people said eat loads of cake,
you wouldn't want much anyway.
And then you would've and stuffed your face,
and looked like King Henry the VIII.

Present; We're told off every day
for living our lives the wrong damn way.
''Suck my left one!'' is what I say
if I want six coffees a day!
Women, men and in-betweens-
why don't you just stop dieting?
Go bake, eat cake,
go cheer, drink beer!
Worrying is b-boring!
Oh, I get more turned on by pink cupcakes
than heroin.
Not ''Rock n' Roll'',
I'm much more Mary Popppins.
Oh, supermodel's legs.
They never held up much weight in my world.
Oh, supermodel's legs.
'Cuz women should be women,
girls should be allowed to be girls.
(Too right!)