(Difford/Tilbrook)  

  

The head of a hunt on the wall by a painting  

An upright piano stood locked by the door  

In through the window  

The light was fast fading  

While I spilt my whiskey  

All over the floor  

Making a mess of my words so  

I was trying  

To impress the Empress with  

My wimpy tales  

Fanning her face from cigar smoke  

And sighing  

I had come close to be miles  

From her trail  



She was the jewel that  

Sparkled in darkness  

She was the love  

Of everyone's life  

She was the catch at  

Everyone's parties  

She was the one with a tongue  

Like a knife  



Her bosoms curved perfectly  

Lit by the fire  

My mind launched away  

In a sea of its own  

Her grace and her tightness  

I had to admire  

Through a whore's breath of stories  

I happily told  



Trespassing my hand  

Fell into hot water  

She shot like a bullet  

Right out of her chair  

She led me away and I  

Was then slaughtered  

By the warmth of her body  

And her love and care  



Her tongue cut away  

And the wounds slowly opened  

I lay on the sails of the  

Ship of romance  

Drunk as I could be and  

Broker than broken and  

The head of my hunt  

Was there in my hands