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'd 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

Every day 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 death)
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



Credits
Writer(s): Stephen Sondheim, Ricky Ian Gordon
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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