She doesn't need money    She doesn't need diamonds    She's lookin' for pretty things    She doesn't want romance    She doesn't need finance    She's looking for rendezvous    But every time she's going down    She never looks around    I'll wait and watch her with my    lens until she brings the curtain down    'There behind the keyhole'    with my fisheye    I'm back in the darkroom    I'm covered in fixer    I'm making a photograph    I'll send her some postcards    In glorious colour    I'm keeping the negatives    I'll form a letter from the news    With different type from different lines    I'll tell the world about her    I'll mail the People and the Times    'Oo it'll be so scandalous    For the both of them    But mainly her'    She showed them her husband    He ordered a dozen    He thought they were fabulous    The one with the --------------    The two of the ----------------    And three of the --------------    He sold her to Hefner    Who put her in Playboy    He gave her a centre-fold    I made a real blunder    She made it in movies    I made her a superstar