It’s wrong to live wrong I was thinking this
and wringing my hands I wrung my hands
Wasn’t it right to live right and to write
about the right life rather than living wrong
and writing about the wrong life Which is
righter which is wronger The thing is
if you have the wrong life you don’t want
to tell thinking always that somehow you
will right it Righting and writing it’s a kind
of redress a new dress I’ll put on when I
rewrite my life I’ll run out and get it now
while there’s still time a red dress for joy
a red dress for redress and I’ll dress you
down as I walk out the door You’ll ring
and ring but I won’t rush back I won’t
write back You’ll be right and I’ll be
wronged and that’s what I’ll tell if I get
the time but not to you you won’t be told
You can read my redress in the papers
I’ll be out on the town in my red dress
