Molina: She wears satin Spanish lace She feels wild chinchilla Brush across her face She's lucky, she's a woman... She wears diamonds Bright as stars She has lovers open doors To fancy cars She's lucky, so lucky, she's a woman... A perfume by Lanvin To dab across her wrist A secret, ribboned diary Of all the men she's kissed Lilac waters bathe her skin At the opera, ushers gasp When she sweeps in Gifts of chocolate, roses too Hand delivered notes Confessing "I LOVE YOU!" Milky lotions, scented creams She's the climax Of your Technicolor dreams How lucky can you be? So lucky, you'll agree And I wish that she were me That woman...
