We'd like to do a song now about the identification process
It's called Montreal

She used to like lavender pant suits
And long black velvet gloves
Smiles cross crowded rooms
From the only boy she'd ever love

Don't you worry
Her mother's gonna make her look good
Don't you worry
Her mother's gonna make her look good

Didn't like leopard coats
Or tall thin millionaires
Kissing everybody on New Year's Eve
Or sending men to electric chair

Don't you worry
Her mother's gonna make her look good
Don't you worry
Her father's gonna make her look good

Give me the chance to explain
Well, why don't you just explain
Come on, explain away

The snow is so merciless
On poor old Montreal
Spite of everything that's happened
Yeah, in spite of it all

Don't you worry
Her mother's gonna make her look good
Don't you worry
Her father's gonna make her look good

And there was a
The day, yeah
I just hope no one will forget
Oh, there's no easy number
It was a bad day for the feminists
It was a bad day for the anarchists
It was a bad day for the nihilists
It was a bad day for the realists
Was a bad day for a stylists
It was a bad day