When he talked about the party
He would start with the gravel in the driveway
When you talk about her, I feel
As if I've been in her myself
That I'm you, I'm her, and the table on which
The roses died in direct sunlight
You have made a profession out of friendship
And you are only loyal to men
To men whose wives you don't find attractive
Or don't find you attractive
Your hair used to be long and brown
Comfort upon your back
Now that he's touched you, he's turned to ashes
You're ashamed of yourself
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
