The Ladies Who Lunch

Here's to the ladies who lunch-- Everybody laugh. Lounging in their caftans And planning a brunch On their own behalf. Off to the gym, Then to a fitting, Claiming they're fat. And looking grim, 'Cause they've been sitting Choosing a hat. Does anyone still wear a hat? I'll drink to that. And here's to the girls who play smart-- Aren't they a gas? Rushing to their classes In optical art, Wishing it would pass. Another long exhausting day, Another thousand dollars, A matinee, a Pinter play, Perhaps a piece of Mahler's. I'll drink to that. And one for Mahler! And here's to the girls who play wife-- Aren't they too much? Keeping house but clutching A copy of LIFE, Just to keep in touch. The ones who follow the rules, And meet themselves at the schools, Too busy to know that they're fools. Aren't they a gem? I'll drink to them! Let's all drink to them! And here's to the girls who just watch-- Aren't they the best? When they get depressed, It's a bottle of Scotch, Plus a little jest. Another chance to disapprove, Another brilliant zinger, Another reason not to move, Another vodka stinger. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh! I'll drink to that. So here's to the girls on the go-- Everybody tries. Look into their eyes, And you'll see what they know: Everybody dies. A toast to that invincible bunch, The dinosaurs surviving the crunch. Let's hear it for the ladies who lunch-- Everybody rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise! Rise!