Karaoké Aldonza L'Homme de la Mancha (comédie musicale) (Joan Diener)

My lady

I am not your lady

I am not any kind of a lady

I was spawned in a ditch by a mother

Who left me there naked and cold and too hungry to cry

I never blamed her

I'm sure she left hoping that I'd have the good sense to die

Then, of course there's my father

I'm told that young ladies

Can point to their fathers with maidenly pride

Mine was some regiment here for an hour

I can't even tell you which side

So of course I became as befitted my delicate birth the most casual bride

Of the murdering scum of the earth

And still thou art my lady

And still he torments me how should I be a lady for a lady has modest and maidenly airs

And a virtue I somehow suspect that I lack it's hard to remember these maidenly airs

In a stable laid flat on your back won't you look at me, look at me

God, won't you look at me

Look at the kitchen slut reeking with sweat born on a dungheap to die on a dungheap

A strumpet men use and forget if you feel that you see me not quite at my virginal best

Cross my palm with a coin and I'll willingly show you the rest

Never deny thou art Dulcinea

Take the clouds from your eyes and see me as I really am you have shown me the sky but what good is the sky

To a creature who'll never do better than crawl of all the cruel devils who've badgered and battered me

You are the cruelest of all can't you see what your gentle insanities do to me

Rob me of anger and give me despair blows and abuse I can take and give back again

Tenderness I cannot bear so don't reach out to me when your sweet

Dulcinea you call

I am only Aldonza

I'm no one, I'm nothing at all

Now and forever thou art my lady Dulcinea

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