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Fourth floor room |
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Each girl I've brought back home to bloom |
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All fold on close inspection |
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Each one leaves |
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A banner hanging from the eaves |
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Marking the eve of election |
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Ex-girl collection, why? |
|
Into why not |
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Into what else you got |
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It's just how men mark time |
|
Ann slams in |
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Another lightning round begins |
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This could get interesting |
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Where's ann been? |
|
She pours herself a don't-ask gin |
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No ice and light on the bitters |
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I'm done with quitters, why |
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Charles, I found out |
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Wipe that smile off your mouth |
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I think it's tell-me time |
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Britt hit hard |
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She found my box of Beth's best cards |
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Hand cut and signed with 'X's |
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Called at work |
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'Happy anniversary, jerk' |
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And I just laughed at the timing |
|
With you on hold line 2 still crying 'why?' |
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Play sex on the cuff? |
|
Does beth like it rough? |
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And learn your dirty lines? |
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And keep her hair cropped |
|
The other shoe dropped |
|
'Is this how men mark time |
|
in couples?', she cursed |
|
This sounds too rehearsed |
|
As Ann, hand on hip |
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Accusing me to the rafters |
|
Words turn and spit |
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And scorch right through to the plaster |
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I'm called ten kinds of a bastard |
|
Curses came faster |
|
Ann stands down |
|
I think she thinks there's still some gal |
|
Who's up but Ann's so smug |
|
You couldn't even guess Beth's gone |
|
She so (...) |
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Why? into why not? |
|
Into Charles gone to pot |
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In hotter water |
|
Line up to lift up a toast |
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To the ones I hurt most |
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And how the well's gone lime |
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With Charles on the plow |
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I'm roger over and how |
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Slower now men mark time |
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Fine |
|
Why, what else you got? |
