I was blessed to fight with you all night
I hadn't even know what fun
All they wore was dressed in scarlet and in white, like the w**** of Babylon
Shook your conscience, held it to the light, tried to see what was written on it
I said, "Baby don't ya think, you're being a little bit drastic?
There are things in this world that you can't buy with plastic.
You blew through your cash like a Klondike miner.
Someday you'll maybe feel the lash of the Intelligent Designer."
Oh, your doctor died, Baby
I believe he lost a-hold of himself
Oh, it wasn't a homicide
Your doctor was in such poor health
And I'm a lot like him
I believe I've lost control
And those are the terms of our love on parole
Oooh, they found us out in pavillions of doubt
And cathedrals of longing and death without warning
The room(?) readied itself for that transfer of power
When you rode right through in your penultimate hour
And said, "I can see the billboards and the history written large."
You said, "That was no-one's wedding, Baby, that was Picket's Charge."
And for all of your talk of ending the fray,
There's not a part of your heart that would have it that way
Oh, ya couldn't make a cup of tea
Without a battle strategy
Which doesn't feel right until it takes it toll
And those are the terms and conditions of our love on parole
Oh, abrasive and unbearable, a half-step from hysterical
You stopped waiting for the miracle and started praying for the end
Oh, you were never less than charitable
But I can think of nothing so terrible
As to no longer be your lover and only be your friend
Now that I could never navigate by those complex narratives
That which lived and died and lies in state
And still suffer its imperatives
And anyway, I was never that interested in your heart and soul
I just wanted to see you and make love on parole
I hadn't even know what fun
All they wore was dressed in scarlet and in white, like the w**** of Babylon
Shook your conscience, held it to the light, tried to see what was written on it
I said, "Baby don't ya think, you're being a little bit drastic?
There are things in this world that you can't buy with plastic.
You blew through your cash like a Klondike miner.
Someday you'll maybe feel the lash of the Intelligent Designer."
Oh, your doctor died, Baby
I believe he lost a-hold of himself
Oh, it wasn't a homicide
Your doctor was in such poor health
And I'm a lot like him
I believe I've lost control
And those are the terms of our love on parole
Oooh, they found us out in pavillions of doubt
And cathedrals of longing and death without warning
The room(?) readied itself for that transfer of power
When you rode right through in your penultimate hour
And said, "I can see the billboards and the history written large."
You said, "That was no-one's wedding, Baby, that was Picket's Charge."
And for all of your talk of ending the fray,
There's not a part of your heart that would have it that way
Oh, ya couldn't make a cup of tea
Without a battle strategy
Which doesn't feel right until it takes it toll
And those are the terms and conditions of our love on parole
Oh, abrasive and unbearable, a half-step from hysterical
You stopped waiting for the miracle and started praying for the end
Oh, you were never less than charitable
But I can think of nothing so terrible
As to no longer be your lover and only be your friend
Now that I could never navigate by those complex narratives
That which lived and died and lies in state
And still suffer its imperatives
And anyway, I was never that interested in your heart and soul
I just wanted to see you and make love on parole