Every Day A Little Death

CHARLOTTE
Every day a little death,
In the parlor, in the bed,
In the curtains, in the silver,
In the buttons, in the thread.
Every day a little sting,
In the heart and in the head,
Every move and every breath,
And you hardly feel a thing,
Brings a perfect little death.

He smiles sweetly, strokes my hair,
Says he misses me.
I would murder him right there,
But first I die.
He talks softly of his wars
And his horses and his whores,
I think love's a dirty business!

ANNE
So do I! So do I....

CHARLOTTE
I'm before him on my knees
And he kisses me.
He assumes I'll lose my reason,
And I do.
Men are stupid, men are vain,
Love's disgusting, love's isane,
A humiliating business!

ANNE
Oh, how true!

CHARLOTTE
... Ah, well...
Every day a little death,

ANNE
Every day a little death,

CHARLOTTE
In the curtains,
In the silver,

||||| ANNE
In the buttons, ||||| In the murmurs,
In the bread. ||||| In the gestures
||||| In the sighs.

Every day a
Little sting

||||| Every day a little dies,
In the heart
And in the head.
||||| In the looks and in
||||| The lies.
Every move and
Every breath.

BOTH
And you hardly feel a
Thing,
Brings a perfect little
Death.

Music and Lyrics: Stephen Sondheim
From the Show A Little Night Music

This page was created on June 10, 1999 at 2:53 AM.

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