Rochester
I see a flame in the palm of your hand
Oh sister
You're peevish and puny and spoiled and bland
Oh sister
You have no principles
You have no taste
Your education was truely a waste
Don't be upset, girls, this has to be faced
Sweet sisters
I see a man in your future, my girl
Dear lady
A penniless snake you mistake for an earl
Dear lady
You marry the scoundrel, and soon after that
You bear him a child and then you get fat
Lucky for you he leaves both of you flat
Dear lady
I feel you trembling
Oh sister
Happiness calls, but cannot get in
Oh sister
There's someone you long for, but do not declare
You sit here alone in your darkest despair
Don't think that he is at all unaware
Dear sister
Jane
And who might he be, mother?
Rochester
I'm getting tired of this masquerade
Oh sister
Do you forgive me for this odd charade
Oh sister?
