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