An illusion of beauty;
Youth’s gone;
You’ve got the clothes and some glamour,
Not quite mutton, certainly not lamb,
But there’s no discipline and the body’s turned to fat -
Headscarf off, smart car,
This is Identity held to Money,
But somehow the two don’t mix.
A few years at most and then you’ll be bored;
Perhaps an affair,
Perhaps a job -
Or sadness and despair.
Late 30’s, youth disappearing, plenty of money which she uses to buy her Identity. But the smart car isn’t really her, and the money isn’t really valued, and soon enough she’s going to get bored with the pretence and move on to something else.
