A Little Night Music: Every Day a Little Death
CHARLOTTE:
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.
ANNE:
So do I!
CHARLOTTE:
I'm before him on my knees
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.
ANNE:
Oh, how true!
CHARLOTTE:
Ah, well...
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CHARLOTTE:
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.
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ANNE:
Every day a little death
On the lips and in the eyes,
In the murmurs, in the pauses,
In the gestures, in the sighs.
Every day a little dies
In the looks and in the lies.
Every move and every breath
(And you hardly feel a thing)
Brings a perfect little death.
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