Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women
There’s a shoulder where Death comes to cry
There’s a lobby with nine hundred windows
There’s a tree where the doves go to die
There’s a piece that was torn from the morning
And it hangs in the Gallery of FrostAey, aey, aey, aey
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz with the clamp on its jawsOh, I want you, I want you, I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine
In the cave at the tip of the lilly
In some hallway where love’s never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sandAey, aey, aey, aey
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your handThis waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and Death
Dragging its…
