[CHARLOTTE]
Every day a little death
In the parlor, in the bed
In the curtains, in the silver
In the buttons, in the bread
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 bеfore him on my knees
And he kisses mе
He assumes I'll lose my reason
And I do
Men are stupid, men are vain
Love's disgusting, love's insane
A humiliating business!
[ANNE]
Oh, how true!

[CHARLOTTE]
Ah, well...

Every day a little death—

[ANNE]
Every day a little death—

[CHARLOTTE]
In the parlor, in the bed—

[ANNE]
In the lips and in the eyes—

[CHARLOTTE]
In the curtains
In the silver
In the buttons
In the bread

[ANNE, simultaneously]
In the murmurs
In the gestures
In the pauses
In the sighs
[CHARLOTTE]
Every day a little sting

[ANNE]
Every day a little dies

[CHARLOTTE]
In the heart
And in the head

[ANNE]
In the looks
And in the lies

[CHARLOTTE]
Every move and every breath—

[CHARLOTTE & ANNE]
And you hardly feel a thing
Brings a perfect little death