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Careful in the kitchenSays the man in redHe knows exactly where to hang his headSomeones in the bedroomPlaying with the lampLove is like her hair beneath the curtain soiled and dampIsn't she so beautifulIn her baby bluesI'll be over when I knowThat she's all over youI can hear the tickingOf the cuckoo clockI can see you hiding in the shadow of her locksShe don't really love youShe don't understandWhat she's got between the precious creases of her handsLife becomes the poetMessing with her wordsIn the margin soft and blurredTime is my complexionLove is my paradeFunny how the fiddler knows exactly when to play Aus Songtexte Mania