The Key

We stood in church at your father's request the morning after the night before
With your bright red nail varnished finger, you pointed across the pages of biblical text
You spoke with looks and smiles showing me through the passages of Ruth
And how she successfully obliged in doing all that her mother-in-law told her to do
We followed the mother's day sermons with the light streaming in from the east windows
We had been read to from the second book of Moses about how his mother saved him from the Pharaoh

Oh
Its over
Casanova
Oh
She's turned her back on you
Oh
Its over
Casanova
Oh
You're chasing the kisses that she blew

You're hard to please cutesy-coy Woolfey wink-o'-the-eye act could make any man weak at the knees
You smoke like an Italian, walk like an Egyptian, you seem to carry it all off with ease
Eastern olive skin, waxed legs, great skin, with a consistently good taste in men
You like to step out smart, look trim, but without ever following the latest high street trends
Now I realize, I'm far from qualified to bring your character into question
But it seems to me your world might end without you receiving the correct forms of attention
You have the sweetest ways, deistic sways and a perfectly holistic demeanor
But when that holier-than-thou tone creeps into you voice, I do think I could live without you

Oh
Its over
Casanova
Oh
She's turned her back on you
Oh
Its over
Casanova
Oh
You're chasing the kisses that she blew

She
Was holding the key
To this damned city
(And it looked pretty good you know)