Lyrics

Judy lights a cigarette, I walk her to my walk-up flat With Repetto shoes, a chocolate hat She looks like Marie Antoinette Her tailor is an astronaut And when she smiles I really ought To tell her what I really thought About her photograph Judy's laugh is like a rasp Judy's lips are bold as brass Judy says she's working class Maybe through the looking glass Blows a kiss, picks up a glass Fills it from a secret flask Slings it back and shyly asks If she can take a bath And I wonder why does sex Always make me think of death? Does it matter, I say no There's a thousand ways to come but only one to go The sex is good, we speak of Yeats His lucky loves, byzantine hates And how before the pearly gates He made St Peter sit and wait While he made ready to create Like some plenipotentate Releasing fluids from his brain Judy says she feels the same A silence settles on the flowers We are living golden hours Like the carp that emperors Keep to feel superior And I wonder why does sex Always make me think of death? Does it matter, I say no There's a thousand ways to come but only one to go Look within, the end begins Only when beginning ends Judy says, and smiles, and bends And when she bends beneath her dress Suddenly I see her breasts It makes me stop and catch my breath And I wonder why does sex Always make me think of death? The sex is good, we speak of Yeats His lucky loves, byzantine hates And how, before the pearly gates He made St Peter sit and wait And I wonder why does sex Always make me think of death? Does it matter, I say no Cos there's a thousand ways to come but only one to go