Fourth floor room    Each girl I've brought back home to bloom   All fold on close inspection   Each one leaves    A banner hanging from the eaves   Marking the eve of election   Ex-girl collection   Why?   Into, why not?   Into, what else you got?   It's just how men mark time   Ann slams in    Another lightning round begins   This could get interesting   Where's Ann been?    She pours herself a don't-ask gin   No ice and light on the bitters   I'm done with quitters    "Why? Charles, I found out   Wipe that smile off your mouth   I think it's tell-me time"   Britt hit hard    She found my box of Beth's best cards   Hand cut and signed with 'X's   Called at work   "Happy anniversary, jerk"   And I just laughed at the timing   With you on line two still crying    "Why play sex on the cuff    Does Beth like it rough?   And learn your dirty lines?   And keep her hair cropped    (The other shoe dropped)   Is this how men mark time in couples?"   She cursed   (This sounds so rehearsed)   As Ann, hand on hip, accusing me to the rafters   The words turn and spit    And scorch right through to the plaster   I'm called ten kinds of a bastard    Curses come faster    Why?   Into, why not?   Into, what else you got?   Into, Charles gone to pot    In hotter water   Line up to lift up a toast    To the ones I hurt most   And how the well's gone lime   With Charles on the plow   I'm roger, over and how   Slower now men make time   Fine   Why?   What else you got?