the furnace burns, the baby turns
she cries when she's hungry
the morning paper will knock the door
to interrupt their slumbers
are you satisfied tonight, oh, trader's wife
does he neglect you?
crawling bar stools and touching the girls
as you wash their smell from his clothes
they shoot the horses
when they're too old to race
and so, my dear, is there room in bed for me?
the setting sun has etched
lines upon this face
shades of red of a furious defeat
(the bear, the bull)
are you satisfied tonight, oh, trader's wife
as he thinks to you:
"i don't know you anymore,
and i can't breath in this apartment."
sleep,my sweetie, let the days expire
they've outnumbered you
hold me sweetly, like the days we bled with love
a red so deep we sunk
we sunk