Honey, come a little closer,
Soon there'll be two doors in our room.
One, where we entered together,
The other, where you'll leave sober
From the druken whirlwind of us
Or maybe just an illusion;
A mirage in our own desert island,
But when I look at you I see,
Feel and breathe -
The worry that keeps on eating me.

Am I doing something wrong?
Am I doing things right?
What sort of a companion you're looking for every night?
It kills me to see you getting bored
Would you want us to be like the lovers in Cherbourg?

I'm obsessed with metamorphosis,
It has been too long for me to notice
That you might want a change in pace
If so, won't you say it to my face?

Are the lines on my portrait more pronounced?
Do you fancy someone young and proud?
More delectable, spright and loud?
Someone who's not afraid of the crowd?

Maybe someone a bit taller...