Maid of Bond Street - David Bowie

This girl is made of lipstick

Powder and paint

Sees the pictures of herself

Every magazine on every shelf

This girl is maid of Bond Street

Hailing cabs, lunches with executives

Gleaming teeth sip aperitifs

This girl is a lonely girl

Takes the train from Paddington to Oxford Circus

Buys the Daily News

But passengers don’t smile at her, don’t smile at her

This girl is made of loneliness

A broken heart

For the boy that she once knew

Doesn’t want to know her any more

And this girl is a lonely girl

Every thing she wants is hers

But she can’t make it with the boy she really wants to be with

All the time, to love, all the time

This boy is made of envy

Jealousy

He doesn’t have a limousine

Really wants to be a star himself

This girl, her world is made of flashlights and films

Her cares are scraps on the cutting room floor

And maids of Bond Street drive round in chauffered cars

Maids of Bond Street picture clothes, eyes of stars

Maids of Bond Street shouldn’t have worldly cares

Maids of Bond Street shouldn’t have love affairs