Where's the street-wise Hercules?

The young woman who sits next to me at work asked me today what advice I had about how to assuage "boy trouble". I said it depended on the nature of the trouble. She said "oh, there being no good ones around". I paused. Then out it came "Resign yourself". There was an implied, northern accented "love" at the end, likewise a dramatic pull on a fag. My inner Bet Lynch at the fore. Poor girl was crushed.

I'd like to think I redeemed myself by sending her the lyrics to "Holding out for a Hero"* by Bonnie Tyler a few hours later.

AB x

*Where have all the good men gone
And where are all the gods?
Where's the street-wise Hercules
To fight the rising odds?
Isn't there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and turn and dream
of what I need