Betrayal of the Suffragettes

She totters on her child-like frame
Her breasts engorged
To flirt with fame
Unlike the post-partum mother
Oh empty miss
How did it come to this?
The chef has butchered you senseless.

Oh do not lie, to please a man
Oh do not utter, because I can,
Climb mountains.
Oh silly brittle woman
The chef has butchered you senseless.