Every Day A Little Death

Every day a little death
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!
I'm before him on my knees So do I
And he kisses me
He assumes I 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...
Every day a little death
Every day a little death
In the parlor, in the bed
On the lips and in the eyes
In the curtains, in the silver
In the murmurs, in the pauses
In the buttons, in the bread
In the gestures, 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.