I think to myself when we kiss 
Your husband is watching 
From his portrait his eyes are looking down 
On the slipper and stocking 
Back against the bookcase 
Down upon the floor 
Empty the decanter 
Slur again for more
His house, her home, our future in a lover's world 
Her son, her heart, her love for me, tomorrow's world 

I laugh at myself when your son 
Is watching cartoons 
In the morning he's looking up at me 
When we're in the bathroom 
Sees me kissing mother 
Doesn't blink an eye 
Asks a lot of questions 
Answers hard to find.

I talk to myself when I'm drunk 
And she is still sober 
Words are so few and far between 
My arms reach to hold her 
Hungry for the love 
I rescued from the grave 
The past is just a portrait 
The future's ours to frame