I'll try to dredge this one up from memories of my mis-spent youth (as a listener to Broadway musical records albums owned by my neighbor, not as a member of the oldest profession...) I hope this is what you're looking for; I didn't know Jacques Brel was associated with this.

Aldonza's Song

I was spawned in a ditch/By a mother who left me there/ Naked and cold and too hungry to cry/I never blamed her/ I'm sure she left hoping/ That I'd have the good sense to die.

Then, of course, there's my father/ I'm told that young ladies/ Can point to their fathers with maidenly pride/ Mine was some regiment/Here for an hour/I can't even tell you which side.

So of course, I became, as befitted my delicate birth/ The most casual bride, of the murdering scum of the earth.

Spoken: Don Quixote "But still thou art my lady"

Aldonza: "A LADY! How should I be a lady?"

For a lady has modest and maidenly airs/And a virtue I somehow suspect that I lack/It's hard to remember those maidenly airs/ In a stable, laid flat on your back.

Don't you see what your tender insanities do to me/ Rob me of anger and give me despair/ (Memory lapse here for last two lines of verse)

Won't you look at me, LOOK at me/ God, won't you look at me/ Look at the kitchen slut, reeking of sweat/ Born on a dungheap, to die on a dungheap/ A strumpet men use and forget.

So please torture me now, with your seet Dulcineas no more/ I'm no-one, I'm NOTHING, I'm only Aldonza, the whore!