Maybe I'm Left and maybe I'm Mod;
Maybe I'm Woman, maybe I'm God.
By clever 'noblesse', I'll spin love for you.

I bow and glow in a dance of steerable stances I'm faking.
Shine at the start, be deft and so smart, they'll be quaking.

Maybe I'll win and maybe I'll lose;
Maybe I'll finish spyin' for clues.
But never suppressed, I'm above the blue.

Somehow I know in advance, by wearing the pants, less time baking.
Whine in my heart, bereft as each tart he is making.

Maybe we're done, First Wife he'll forget;
But baby, I've won much more than I've bet.
I'll never confess how I shove and stew.

So now I go, take a chance, through terrible rants and muckraking.
Mine the rampart, then Left of the chart I'll be staking.

Maybe I'll live in strife with regret,
But slay me! I'll give no power up yet.
Forever the lesson, this 'dove' we'll rue.