We play these parlor games. We play at make believe. When we get to the part. Where I say that I'm going to leave. . Everybody loves a happy ending. But we don't even try.
You're upstairs with the boyfriend while i'm left her to listen. i hear you calling his name, i hear teh stutter of ignition. i could hear you whispering as i crept by your door.
I hate these flaming curtains. they're not the color of your hair. I hate these striplights. they're not so undoing as your stare. I hate the buttons on your shirt when all I wanna do is tear.
Oh my baby, baby, I love you more than I can tell. I don't think I can live without you and I know that I never will. Oh my baby, baby, I want you so it scares me to death.
He's a fine figure of a man and handsome too. With his eyes upon the secret places he'd like to undo. Still he knows who knows who and where and how. And I hope you're happy now.
Photographs of fancy tricks. To get your kicks at sixty-six. He thinks of all the lips that he licks. And all the girls that he's goin' to fix. . She gave a little flirt, gave herself a little cuddle.
If I could believe two and two is five. Two wrongs make a right. Well then, man alive. Lost in my insolence and sneers. That might sound like prayers.