we were both standing

in your mother's living room

sweating up a storm in that

terrible month of June

and the sweat rolled down your cheek

and into your mouth

I knew this must've been a dream

'cos you're mother would never let me in her house



you are the most beautiful widow

you are the most beautiful widow

you are the most beautiful widow in town



many years later

the glassy month of December

I stood with my hands in my pockets

trying to avoid

a shiny wedding portrait

hanging on that old woman's wall

'cos I knew you'd be wearing a smile

that'd be too painful to look upon



you are the most beautiful widow

I bet you are the most beautiful widow

I bet you are the most beautiful widow in town