Sheep to the slaughter oh I thought this must be love
All your sons and daughters in a strangle hold with a kid glove
She´s got eyes like saucers oh you think she´s a dish

She is the blue chip that belongs to the big fish

But it´s easier to say "I love you,"
than "Yours sincerly" I suppose
All little sisters like to try on big sister´s clothes
Big sister´s clothes

The sport of kings, the old queen´s heart
The prince in darkness stole some tart
And it´s in the papers, it´s in the charts
It´s in the stop press before it all starts.

With a hammer on the slap and tickle under grisly garments
With all the style and finesse of the purchase of armaments
Compassion went out of fashion

That´s all your concern meant
Sweat it out for thirty seconds on home improvements

But it´s easier to say "I love you,"
than "Yours sincerly" I suppose
All little sisters like to try on big sister´s clothes
Big sister´s clothes