In an anonymous rendezvous. Where the forbidden lovers repair. They're burning down another damn candle. They're melting the tables and chairs. Beneath them applause from the balcony. whenever they accomplished making love. Other times they thought they heard laughter. Coming from the balcony above. CHORUS. She lies to his right and she carelessly recites. All of her brand new appetites. She seems brittle and small it don't sound like her at all. Since she came back to him after the fall. She said "You never visit the countryside". "So I've made you a country to order". She put up a little tent in the bedroom. Crickets played on a tape-recorder. The ceiling was festooned with phosphorous stars. She noticed his skin turning cold. Burning all his clothes on the bonfire. "Relax" she whispered and tightened the blindfold. CHORUS. You've changed but not for the better babe. I'd tell you why but what's the use. 'Cos it's the same kind of pity. A drunkard gives as his excuse. You were sharp and ideal as a bobby pin. Now your eyes are deserted and quiet. We both look like those poor shattered mannequins. Thrown through the window in the riot. She lies in his arms and without any qualms. Revels in shallow delights. She seems brittle and small it don't sound like her at all.