He went down the stair
Past the dining room chair.
"Do your best to take care,"
And the door closed.
She picked up the phone.
"Let's not spend this night alone.
For a week he's bound to roam
Where the wind blows."

Soon she gazed upon his face
And her heart began to race.
As she imagined how he'd taste
She closed the front door.
He said, "I waited for your call.
Now, take the phone from out the wall
So we might let our hearts recall
What they were made for."

He thought, "I lied about my trip
But now I've finally seen her slip.
I can't wait to hear her flip
When I call her.
I'll go to a phone booth
And present her with the proof.
Just a taste of the truth
Will appall her."

He paid both his dimes
But got no answer on the line.
A vision filled his mind:
"My God, they're screwing!"
He burst in through the door--
"My love, you've turned into a whore.
I'll beat you both on to the floor
For what you're doing."

She said: "if you cut me I may bleed.
If you punch me I may plead,
But I never will concede
I still love you.
With this I wash my hands.
I've grown deaf to your demands.
I don't even have to stand
To rise above you."

When these words shot through his ear
His stomach swooned like something queer
And so the neighbors wouldn't hear
He closed the window.
He said: "this house was once my home
But tonight has more than shown
How our hearts are bound to roam
Where the wind blows."