Obscure the late afternoon with a drape Don't let him follow her latest escape Or the fanfare of taxis that needlessly played As a forty watt bulb burns a hole in the shade Then they got into a passionate fight Now she's lost in the shadows thrown over at twilight
At the Empire Hotel they first came face to face Pieces would fall off all over the place And there in the debris they'd laugh and recline Tell me my dear are you more or less mine
Then they got into a passionate fight She says now this isn't love it's what you do in spite of it And I can't go on with it night after night after night Camphor and cigarettes perfume the scandal Now he's counting the hinges and watching the door handle As he hangs the clothes on the back of the door Perfectly matching outfits that she wore
Women come quietly and some remain with their pity But others know the pain of the passion of fight Though the chance they will win is impossibly slight He cowers before them so invitingly And in the long run they'll be chastised and hated Or walk out frustrated or humiliated That is the pointless delight of a passionate fight
This isn't love what you do in spite of it I can't go on night after night after night after night after night after night...