(Aristocrats:)
Thus all fairy stories end
Only an actress would pretend
Affairs of state are her latest play

Eight shows a week, two matinees
My how the worm begins to turn
When will the chorus girl ever learn?
My how the worm begins to turn
When will the chorus girl ever learn?

(Eva:)
The chorus girl hasn't learned the lines you'd like to hear
She won't go scrambling over the backs of the poor to be accepted
By making donations just large enough to the correct charity
She won't be president of your wonderful societies of philanthropy
Even if you asked her to be
As you should have asked her to be

The actress hasn't learned the lines you'd like to hear
She won't join your clubs, she won't dance in your halls
She won't help the hungry once a month at your tombolas
She'll simply take control as you disappear

(Che:)
Forgive my intrusion, but fine as those sentiments sound
Little has changed for us peasants down here on the ground
I hate to sound childish, ungrateful, I don't like to moan
But do you now represent anyone's cause but your own?

(Eva:)
Everything done will be justified by my foundation