Amy, Amy

 

Amy, Amy, turning white
In the wynehouse of the night,
What the needle drave & drew
Thy sailor’s Betty Boop tattoo?

 

In what mood & in what wise
Rise the wings beside thine eyes?
Why thy warpaint? Why thy stare?
How the bouffance of thine hair?

 

What the pow’r, & what the soul
Gives thy smoky voice controll?
Why the rehab? what the ache?
Where your husband, also Blake?

 

When the Spice Girls hit the chart,
What the point? & where their art?
With what blues dost thou break free?
Who made them did not make thee.

 

Amy, Amy, turning white
In the wynehouse of the night,
What mere mortal anguish’d cry
Dare match thy fearful artistry?