She sits and waits for the perfect stallion:
Tall/muscled/rich/smart/cute and with big soul.
She doesn't care if he's an Italian
Or a German – he just must fit her scroll.
She’s thirty-two and pride is overflowing.
Priorities of gold rings and pricey fur
Make her forget about the end of beauty's glowing,
There's an advice that should be given her!
Love, Bitch!
Stop kitsch!
Love, Bitch!
Stop kitsch!
She sips cocktails during club attending
As if they'll bring her everlasting health.
On photographs she fleers to look outstanding,
Not realizing she defames herself.
She’s thirty-two and bit by bit she grows older,
She'll be unneeded soon for everyone for sure.
No time to dream about the rich man's shoulder,
There's a reminder that should be given her!
Love, Bitch!
Stop kitsch!
Love, Bitch!
Stop kitsch!