It's at times such as this she'd be tempted to spit
  If she wasn't so ladylike
  She imagines how she might have lived
  back when legends and history collide
  So she looks to her prince finding he's so charmingly
  slumped at her side
  Those days are recalled on the gallery wall
  And she's waiting for passion or humour to strike
  What shall we do, what shall we do with all this useless beauty?
  All this useless beauty
  
  Good Friday arrived, the sky darkened on time
  'Til he almost began to negotiate
  She held his head like a baby and said "It's okay if you cry"
  Now he wants her to dress as if you couldn't guess
  He desires to impress his associates
  But he's part ugly beast and Hellenic deceased
  So she finds that the mixture is hard to deny
  
  Chorus
  
  She won't practice the looks from the great tragic books
  That were later disgraced to face celluloid
  It won't even make sense but you can bet
  If she isn't a sweetheart or plaything or pet
  The film turns her into an unveiled threat
  
  Nonsense prevails, modesty fails
  Grace and virtue turn into stupidity
  While the calendar fades almost all barricades to a pale compromise
  And our leaders have feasts on the backsides of beasts
  They still think they're the gods of antiquity
  If something you missed didn't even exist
  It was just an ideal -- is it such a surprise?