There, there
The fool that you are, Robert
Is that druff on your shoulder?
It is not, you fiend
Oh, Meg, tarry a while
I will not, I cannot
Please, I’ll make an honest woman of you
The cheek of it, you don’t have it in you
My kisses say I do
Get your lips off me, man
If you love God you’d want to taste a bit of heaven
That’s sacrilege and blasphemy
It is not, it’s as pure as snow to love a woman
You big bastard with your clever words
Come on then, undress a little and show me your thigh
Only the right one
And the space in between
Aw, Robert, you’ll ruin me
Meg, we’re all ruined in the eyes of God
Amen to that
Amen, Meg . . . amen.
