Millionelle

  In a red leather mini, wearing fish-nets and heels, with a pink lacy blouse, which her cleavage revealed.  Wanda worked Wednesday, at a club called LePeel.  She preformed upon stage, twixt midnight and four, and tween her sets, she action-ed the floor.  For parting folks from their money, was what she adored.  
 She met doctors, she met lawyers, she met an Indian chief.  She'd
meet a single or a couple, of a different belief.  They had one thing in common, they were there for relief.  A time to unwind from their hard stressful day.  They come here to dream, they come here to play.  Though what they don't see is the money they pay.
 Now up on the stage, Wanda dances a wind, as a gale storm blows the money straight in.  At the end of the show, she bows out with a grin.  You may think of her, as some people do, as the devils own daughter, but you haven't a clue.  For she'll have a million long for you ever do.