Mrs Rita

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Oh kind Mrs. Rita I never will tell
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The way that you keep us poor girls 
here in hell
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And I never will sneak to the News 
of the World
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Oh kind Mrs. Rita, sincere Mrs. Rita
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A friend to a stranger, a ma to a 
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girl

Continúa después del anuncio
With the chalking and cutting and 
stitching and such
We earn what we earn and it isn’t 
too much
Enough to keep half a step higher 
than trash
Oh kind Mrs. Rita, sincere Mrs. Rita
So loose with the purse strings, so 
free with the cash

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Some guardian angel take pity and 
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sweep me away
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Seems I work every hour God sends
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 in a day
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To line the pockets of Rita O’Connor
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To line the pockets of Rita O’Connor

Oh you can’t call it stealing, more 
helping yourself
If the odd pair of nylons should 
fall off the shelf
And fall into somebody’s handbag 
let’s say
Oh kind Mrs. Rita, sincere Mrs. Rita
It sort of makes up for the pitiful 
pay