Jaki The Ladette

I wrote this initially as play on words around the the term Jack The Lad. However, as I was writing it this story of damaged young women emerged into view. I wasn’t going to write anything about that horrible person Savile but this just came out. I then took it to my friend Andrew and we recorded this. Listen to Jaki The Ladette by Harry Rogers on #SoundCloud


Here comes Jaki the ladette

With the ladders in her tights

She’s been out speeding

For one too many nights

In a mirror through the smoke

Her mascara’s gone streaky

But she don’t see the joke

Staring back so freaky

Tries to roll a cigarette

Can’t see what she’s making

Drops skins down the loo

Hands won’t stop shaking

Ooh Jaki Jaki Jaki

Jaki the ladette

Ooh Jaki Jaki Jaki

Jaki the ladette

Wobbling on stilettos

She staggers to the bar

Empties coins on the counter

Can’t tell what they are

Orders a vodka and red bull

She’s teetering on the edge

Her hair looks just like it’s

Been dragged through a hedge

But here is the strange thing

No matter how stoned she gets

She can’t stop remembering

Like an elephant never forgets

How that creepy disc jockey

The one with the monster cigar

Raped her in her fifteenth summer

In the back of his Rolls Royce car

Ooh Jaki Jaki Jaki

Jaki the ladette

Ooh Jaki Jaki Jaki

Jaki the ladette

Copyright: Harry Rogers 30/10/2012

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