After the Fall

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'd accomplished making love.
Other times they thought they heard laughter
Coming from the balcony above.
She lies to his right and she carelessly recites
All of her brand-new apatites
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 made you the country to order.
She put up a little tent in the bedroom.
Crickets played on a tape-recorder.
The ceiling was festooned with phosphorus stars
She noticed his skin turning cold
Burning all his clothes on the bonfire.
"Relax" she whispered and tightened the blindfold.
She lies to his right and she carelessly recites
All of her brand-new apatites.
She seems brittle and small.
It don't sound like her at all.
Since she came back to him after the fall.

You've changed but not for the better, babe.
I'd tell you why but what's the use?
Cause 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
Since she came back to him
After the fall.





~Elvis Costello