Jet Set

I remember when first we met,
You'd talk of your friends in the vain jet set.
Often you'd disappear for quite a while,
I knew you were missing their fast life style.

You loved their money and big fast cars,
Ritzy restaurants and poser bars.
You felt so chic in your latest gown,
Playing the role of swinger in town.

You loved to party through the night,
Then head for homeĀ in the morning light.
Your days were for dreaming and nights for living,
No thought of the future were you giving.

Summers were spent in Monte Carlo,
Where people mistook you for riske Harlow.
You cruised around in a motor launch,
With guys who loved to sport a paunch.

Winter months were spent in the snow,
Where "apres-ski" was all the go.
You loved to wear your white ski suit,
Your long blond hair made you look so cute.

But in those days of sand and sun,
You'd lie and think of what you'd done.
Around the world more than twice,
With vainĀ people who were falsely nice.

Now as I lie and watch you sleep,
A tiny tear I see you weep.
Is it for me who loves you so,
Or the fast life you used to know.

Written & (c) John McKay Withey 1995

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