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)