you' d better treat me like a

Doll boy, you’d better treat me like a queen

I am sorry, doll boy,
But you are only my favourite toy.
I may share my bed with you
But never ever in my closet will there be a room for two.

You’d better do your best to please me
(do all you can to turn me on)
If you want to keep my company

’Cause you see, my doll boy,
I don’t need your love, your flowers or your tears
I was me before you came,
And after you’ve gone I’ll still be the same
I had my boredom, my interests, my friends, my needs
And I doubt there’s something new that you can teach me.

Poor doll boy,
You should have realized that you are a puppet in my hands,
And your strings are pulled at my command.
So, my doll, my boy,
Unless you treat me like a queen
There’ll come a day when you will wake up to find me sitting inside your brain, retailing it just as I please.

(as fotografias são de dois aspectos de um quadro de David Hockney chamado "Doll boy"; a conjugação e o texto são ideia minha)