Fancy
I remember it all very well lookin' backIt was the summer that I turned eighteen.We lived in a one-room, run down shackon the outskirts of New Orleans.
We didn't have money for food or rentto say the least we were hard-pressedwhen Momma spent every last penny we hadto buy me a dancin' dress.
Momma washed and combed and curled my hair,then she painted my eyes and lips.And I stepped into the satin dancin' dress.It had a split in the side clean up to my hips.
It was red, velvet-trimmed, to fit me goodand standin' back from the lookin' glasswas a womanwhere a half grown kid had stood.
"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down!Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down.Lord forgive me for what I do,But if you want out then it's up to youDon’t let me down your momma’s gonna help you move uptown."
Momma dabbed a bit of perfumeon my neck and she kissed my cheekAnd I saw the tears well upin her troubled eyes when she started to speak
She looked at our pitiful shack and thenshe looked at me and took a ragged breathYour Pa's run off, and I'm real sickand the baby's gonna starve to death.
She handed me a heart-shaped locket that said"To thine own self be true"and I shivered as I watched a roach crawl acrossthe toe of my high-heal shoe
It sounded like somebody else who was talkin'askin', "Momma what do I do?"Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy.And they'll be nice to you."
"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down!Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down.Lord forgive me for what I do,But if you want out then it's up to youDon't let me down,Your momma’s gonna help you move uptown."
Well that was the last time I saw my mommaThe night I left that rickety shackCos welfare people came and took the baby.Momma died and I ain't been back.
But the wheels of fate had started to turnand for me there was no other way out.And it wasn't very long till I knew exactlywhat my ma had been talkin' 'bout.
I did what I had to do.But I made myself a solemn vow:That I was gonna to be a lady somedaythough I don't know when or how.
I couldn't see spendin' the rest of my lifewith my head hung down in shame.I might have been born just plain white trash.but Fancy was my name.
"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down!Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down.
It wasn't very long a benevolent mantook me in off the streetAnd one week later I was pourin' his teain a five roomed hotel suite.
Well I've charmed a king, a congressmanand an occasional aristocratand I’ve got me a Georgia mansionand an elegant New York townhouse flat.
Now I ain't done bad
Now in this world there's a lot of self-righteoushypocrites who call me bad.And criticize Momma for turning me outNo matter how little we had.
And though I hadn’t had to worry about nothin'For nigh on fifteen yearsI can still hear the desperationin my poor mommas voice ringin' in my ears.
"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down!Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down.Lord forgive me for what I do,But if you want out then it's up to youDon't let me down,Your momma’s gonna help you move uptown."
(And I think she did it.)