Every woman needs the moment of escape
From the solemn duties that brushes the make-up
Of the common routine and to think of the lump
Building in inner ground, as sewage in landscape

Be the fortune teller, tell the world of your age
That you are proud of it, these wrinkles of wisdom
And you have desire for days until boredom
Let them line-up at door for the welcoming stage

Let yourself drift away to many fantasies
As life stumbles the dreams, yet find cloudy background
To surpass into blush, imagine stroking round

Be a woman yourself, with your dependencies
To care for your events, as body in great need
Swallow the poison pill, and explore in wet greed