We stood in church at your father’s request the morning after the night beforenWith your bright red nail varnished finger, you pointed across the pages of biblical textnYou spoke with looks and smiles showing me through the passages of RuthnAnd how she successfully obliged in doing all that her mother-in-law told her to donWe followed the mother’s day sermons with the light streaming in from the east windowsnWe had been read to from the second book of Moses about how his mother saved him from the PharaohnnOhnIts overnCasanovanOhnShe’s turned her back on younOhnIts overnCasanovanOhnYou’re chasing the kisses that she blewnnYou’re hard to please cutesy-coy Woolfey wink-o’-the-eye act could make any man weak at the kneesnYou smoke like an Italian, walk like an Egyptian, you seem to carry it all off with easenEastern olive skin, waxed legs, great skin, with a consistently good taste in mennYou like to step out smart, look trim, but without ever following the latest high street trendsnNow I realize, I’m far from qualified to bring your character into questionnBut it seems to me your world might end without you receiving the correct forms of attentionnYou have the sweetest ways, deistic sways and a perfectly holistic demeanornBut when that holier-than-thou tone creeps into you voice, I do think I could live without younnOhnIts overnCasanovanOhnShe’s turned her back on younOhnIts overnCasanovanOhnYou’re chasing the kisses that she blewnnShenWas holding the keynTo this damned cityn(And it looked pretty good you know)