Slutty Maid

SLUTTY MAID
(by Silvio Vinci)
Ring that bell!
Go on — ring that bell!

She comes in late through the service door,
Cigarette burn in her cuff.
The boss says, “Smile for the gentlemen, love.”
She says, “You don’t pay me enough.”
There’s a wedding ring in an ashtray,
A whisky stain on the wall.
The man who lectures on decent girls
Won’t meet her eyes in the hall.

“Keep your head down! Know your place!”
She laughs out loud, right in his face.

Slutty maid! (Slutty maid!)
Let the gentlemen shout!
She’s heard enough through paper walls
To turn them inside out.
Slutty maid! (Slutty maid!)
Ring your little bell!
Make your own bed tonight
At the Grand Hotel!

Friday night and the apron’s off,
Her uniform under a chair.
She plugs her guitar in a crackling amp,
Shakes all the pins from her hair.
The porter’s behind an old drum kit,
And the cook’s on a borrowed bass.
She leans to the mic with a wicked grin:
“Let’s wake up the whole bloody place!”

“Keep it down!” from the floor above.
She shouts back, “Is that loud enough?”

Slutty maid! (Slutty maid!)
Let the gentlemen shout!
She’s heard enough through paper walls
To turn them inside out.
Slutty maid! (Slutty maid!)
Ring your little bell!
Make your own bed tonight
At the Grand Hotel!

Monday morning, ten past nine.
“You’ll keep your job if you toe the line.”
She drops her keys in his cup of tea—
“That little bell won’t ring for me.”

Slutty maid! (Slutty maid!)
Let the gentlemen shout!
She left her keys in a cup of tea
And now she’s walking out!
Slutty maid! (Slutty maid!)
Ring your little bell!
Make your own bed tonight
At the Grand Hotel!

Ring your little bell!
Ring your little bell!
Make your own bed—
Make your own bed—
At the Grand Hotel!