Dreams That Money Can Buy Page #4

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You're mussing my hair. Watch my new clothes.

- Beloved.

- Oh, well, I suppose.

- Angel.

- Don't make such a fuss.

- T reasure.

- You're so impetuous.

Dearest ! Sweetest ! Queen !

This is ridiculous ! Sisters, come to my aid !

Her Amazon sisters

were passing that way

They rushed to her aid

and they saved the day

The swine !

He has frightened her out of her wits

The brute !

We should shoot him and tear him into bits

Wheels started turning

inside her head

So from his ardent arms she fled

Girls of wax can't use devotion

They might melt if they felt an emotion

She left him bereft and wifeless

And he fell to the ground...

...quite lifeless

But she rides on into the dawn

On and on as her wheels revolve

A riddle whose answer none can solve

Who sends all her dreams to the laundry

Who prefers to live in a quandary

Her loneliness she must insist on

She's Isolde without a T ristan

Her groom who for doom was slated

Dissolved into tears and disintegrated

And so she rides on through the evening

As pure as she was at the start

For there's no man alive

who could ever survive

A girl with a prefabricated heart

A love-proof, unbreakable heart

And so she rides on through the evening

As pure as she was at the start

For there's no man alive

who could ever survive

A girl with a prefabricated heart

A love-proof unbreakable heart

Have you come back here,

and against your better judgment too ?

What's happening to you lately ?

Nervous, upset, jumpy.

The way you went on at the club meeting,

everyone noticed, I'm sure.

What can you expect,

married to a little stick of a man like that ?

You stand for something in your set.

Many activities.

A sense of responsibility to the community.

Why is there always this empty feeling

inside you ?

It's like living in a vacuum.

Day after day, running the house,

and then at night

listening to that droning voice of his.

No life to him.

And then you try to sleep, twist and turn,

listening to his irritating little snore.

Lying there until it seems the walls

are closing in on you, crushing you inside.

You hear lonely dogs barking at the moon, and

somebody's footsteps echoing in the street.

Oh, it's terrible. Terrible.

And he talks in his sleep,

and you can't make out what he's saying.

That's why you're here, aren't you ? Curiosity.

Maybe this man can tell you what your husband

is up to. What he dreams about.

Curiosity killed the cat, they say.

You'll find out nothing.

This man is obviously a big fake of some kind.

Anyway, now you're here,

you might as well find out what his game is.

What if any of my friends knew I'd been here ?

No reason they should find out.

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