Martha And The Muffins - Halfway Through the Week lyrics

Baked-bean eyes in a head of skin, Rumours fly as to where he's been, Rolling over like a dying whale, He blows his load like a sudden gale. He moves so well that you hope he stays, But he leaves you empty as the darkness plays A game of shadows on your sleeping face, Outside the snow is falling all around his place. Exhausting trials of endless speculation Conjours up a new line of permutations. Cancerous musings help complete the picture, I'll die from thinking, surely not from smoking, To fill my lungs would be a stricture, But my mind has no limits -- I wish I was joking. He's elegant -- in a stupid kind of way. Never speaks -- he has nothing to say. Calls you 'kid' -- on Monday. Is your lover by Tuesday, Bangs another on Wednesday, And he's only halfway through the week. Where does that Where does that leave Where does that leave you?