Every Move a Picture Follow
St. John's Night lyrics
In the parlor, in the bed
In the curtains, in the silver
In the buttons, in the bread
Every day a little sting
In the heart and in the head
Every move and every breath
And you hardly feel a thing
Brings a perfect little death
He smiles sweetly
Strokes my hair, says he misses me
I would murder him right there
But first I die
He talks softly of his wars
And his horses and his whores
I think love's a dirty business
So do I, so do I
I'm before him on my knees
And he kisses me
He assumes I'll lose my reason
And I do
Men are stupid, men are vain
Love's disgusting, love's insane
A humiliating business
Oh, how true
Ah, well, everyday a little death
Every day a little death
In the parlor, in the bed
In the lips and in the eyes
In the curtains, in the silver
In the buttons, in the bread
In the murmurs, in the gestures
In the pauses, in the sighs
Every day a little sting
Every day a little dies
In the heart and in the head
In the looks and in the lies
Every move and every breath
And you hardly feel a thing
Brings a perfect little death
In the parlor, in the bed
In the curtains, in the silver
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