The crux of the song is that grinding poverty gives you no options. Fancy turns 18 and perhaps get cut off whatever state support she was receiving. Her options, outside of sex-work, are pretty limited—particularly given her mother’s illness and her young sibling (who is eventually taken into care).
Now in this world there's a lot of self-righteous hypocrites
That would call me bad
They criticize Mama for turning me out
No matter how little we had
But though I ain't had to worry 'bout nothin' for nigh on fifteen years
Well, I can still hear the desperation in my poor Mama's voice ringin' in my ears
Perhaps the most redemptive part of the song is Fancy's determination to do what is necessary for her to survive and ignore the public scorn that this attracts.
I remember it all very well lookin' back
It was the summer I turned eighteen
We lived in a one room, rundown shack
On the outskirts of New Orleans
We didn't have money for food or rent
To say the least we were hard pressed
Then Mama spent every last penny we had
To buy me a dancin' dress
Mama washed and combed and curled my hair
And she painted my eyes and lips
Then I stepped into a satin' dancin' dress
That had a split on the side clean up to my hip
It was red velvet trim and it fit me good
Standin' back from the lookin' glass
There stood a woman where a half grown kid had stood
She said, "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down.
Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down
Mama dabbled a little bit of perfume on my neck and then she kissed my cheek
And then I saw the tears wellin' up in her troubled eyes as she started to speak
She looked at a pitiful shack
And then she looked at me and took a ragged breath
She said, "Your Pa's runned off and I'm real sick,
And the baby's gonna starve to death."
She handed me a heart shaped locket that said,
"To thine own self be true."
And I shivered as I watched a roach crawl across
The toe of my high heeled shoe
It sounded like somebody else that was talkin'
Askin', "Mama, what do I do?"
She said, "Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy,
And they'll be nice to you."
She said, "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down.
Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down."
Lord, forgive me for what I do,
But if you want out, well, it's up to you
Now don't let me down
Now your mama's gonna move you uptown
Well, that was the last time I saw my Ma
The night I left that rickety shack
The welfare people came and took the baby
Mama died and I ain't been back
But the wheels of fate had started to turn
And for me there was no way out
And it wasn't very long 'til I knew exactly
What my Mama'd been talkin' about
I knew what I had to do and I made myself this solemn vow
That I's gonna be a lady someday
Though I didn't know when or how
But I couldn't see spending the rest of my life
With my head hung down in shame
You know I might have been born just plain white trash
But Fancy was my name
She said, "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down.
She said, "Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down.
It wasn't long after that benevolent man took me off the street
And one week later I was pourin' his tea in a five room hotel suite
I charmed a king, a congressman and an occasional aristocrat
And then I got me a Georgia mansion and an elegant New York townhouse flat
And I ain't done bad
Now in this world there's a lot of self-righteous hypocrites
That would call me bad
They criticize Mama for turning me out
No matter how little we had
But though I ain't had to worry 'bout nothin' for nigh on fifteen years
Well, I can still hear the desperation in my poor Mama's voice ringin' in my ears
"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down.
Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down."
Lord, forgive me for what I do
But if you want out well it's up to you
Now don't let me down
Now your Mama's gonna move you uptown
Well, I guess she did
-- Bob Barnetson
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