Well I wish I was a lady so that I could be a whore
I wouldn’t stand on corners, I’d be sellin’ door-to-door
And if a lady answers, well I’d sell her a brush or comb
But if a man should come to the door, I’d find out if he’s alone.
Na, Na, Na, Na, Na
Well I’d do my advertising in the Sunday New York Times
And I’d include a picture, and a rhyme that would stick in your mind
And if per chance you call me and I happen not to be at home
I’d have an answering service that would service you when I can’t come.
Na, Na, Na, Na Na
There’d be mirrors on the ceiling, there’d be mirrors on the floor
And the bed would be transparent for an extra ten dollars more
And then for another twenty, well I’d cook you a five course meal
Then I’d throw in a tube of toothpaste just to give you extra sex appeal.
Na, Na, Na, Na, Na
Well I wish I was a lady so that I could be a whore
I wouldn’t stand on corners, I’d be sellin’ door-to-door.
Music and Lyrics by L.E. Kalikow ©2016 Song Attack (BMI)
℗ 2016 L.E.Kalikow LLC. All Rights Reserved