You had us, fool, little lady, on the street Wearing deathly grey and shuffling your feet With your eyes fixed on the footpath we'd often say hello But your mind was on a replay of a story long ago At seventeen she was like all the stars that shine The prettiest of all in a touring chorus line And when she was dancing she was riding on the sky From Sydney to New Zealand she kicked her heels up high Why did she let that man steal her from the wings? To look so good beside him, be a queen in the sport of kings To sip the good old bubbly and be a punter's toast To cheer the winning satins past the post A man trained good horses, see the pictures on the wall Pictures in the kitchen and pictures in the hall Horses that were famous at the time without a fear O'Connor was the big time, the trainer of the year Why did she let that man steal her from the wings? To look so good beside him, be a queen in the sport of kings To sip the good old bubbly and be a punter's toast To cheer the winning satins past the post Would she keep on dancing? Surely may suggest She'd host the big time punters and the squatters from out west They'd land home in their limousines and drink a whiskey dry And brag about the nags from scum to bog of brine Why did she let that man steal her from the wings? To look so good beside him, be a queen in the sport of kings To sip the good old bubbly and be a punter's toast To cheer the winning satins past the post She had us fooled, little lady on the street Wearing deathly grey and shuffling her feet With her eyes fixed on the footpath, we'd often say hello But her mind was on a replay of a story long ago Thank you.