Pimlico Anthem

The flats not hers, he pays the bills
Buys her clothes, supplies her pills
He’s fifty eight she’s twenty two
One other thing he’s married too!
Still never mind, what’s the harm?
They never go out arm in arm
He just pops round twice a week
No time for chat, no time to speak
Just straight to bed to fulfil his needs
Small price to pay for the life she leads
Then he’s gone, thank god for that
All alone in her luxury flat
She showers slow no rush today
The cleaner’s late but on her way
What to wear always a chore
Versace Top, perhaps Dior?
She sees a note beside the bed
“Buy something nice” is all it said
Two Hundred quid he's left as well
Feels like a payment but what the hell
She’ll spend it at her favourite store
She’s not some dirty Shoreditch whore?