Your old lover's lying in the gutter.
He used to be such an all night strutter.
"Oh, my heart," I heard him mutter, "Oh, my dear, it seems to flutter."
It's so hard to say, "No," when the deck is stacked to only go slow.
It's easy sweet to live it up.
An easy street when you've had enough.
Darkened night, splashing light, soft and white and so polite.
Let him in, beneath the rim, beneath the skin, your next of kin.
Cleansing fire, funeral pyre, broken wire grown inside her.
Secret hush, swollen rush, it's soft and plush.
It's so plush.
You know it's so passe to sleep without you every day.
So easy to do your stuff, so easy to live it up.