The doctor had said she looked tired today
the tests had shown, it wouldn’t go away
her looks might go, her living could too
how would she cope, what could she do
she was late arriving for the photo shoot
in her tight blue jeans and high heel boots
the make up artist did her thing
and soon she was ready for anything.

She looked so good as the flash gun fired
with her make up on, she no longer looked tired
the photographer told her what to do
with her long blonde hair and eyes of blue
she knew how to seduce the camera lens
each exposure was her latest friend
it was clear to see she photographed well
even though she felt like hell.

She knew how to grace a magazine cover
knowing how to look, more than any other
often she would be, the centrefold
in a magazine, that was never under sold
she still always had that look in her eye
even when she wanted, to just sit down and cry
Something had to give, something had to change
it was clear to see, things couldn’t stay the same.

But that was then and this is now
there’s always a way to survive somehow
gone are the looks that brought her fame
but she earns her living, just the same
now she works as a photographer herself
taking pictures for the magazine shelves
and she knows what to tell the girls to do
with their long blonde hair and eyes of blue.