(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