You’re paying tribute
to the goddess
a supernatural lie
there is no sex
in the supernatural
spirits don’t have flesh
you’re paying tribute
to the goddess
gathered as one
into a dancing crowd
you can see it
the imitation
the heavy makeup
the style of hair
the golden bracelets
the gowns she wears
now you’re walking the boards
singing for your supper
to the thumping beats of old
so bold, so cold
as you wash your faces like flies
and jump about like frogs
you’re paying tribute
to the goddess
her marble replica
on a mountain top
the Chaldean goddess
the kind that laughs a lot
oh, how it hurts your lover
your husband too
knowing that there’ll never be
a way of really knowing you
there is no constellation
the stars all seem to be men
or mythical beasts
there is no Hollywood constellation
you’re a look-a-like
you’re a poor relation
the doomed sister of cleopatra
the girl child thrown into a river
but keep paying tribute
to the goddess beast
that beauty sleeps
Cinderella wasn’t so bad
She fell in love
With the stable lad
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