The furnace burns, the baby turns
She cries when she′s hungry
The morning paper will knock the door
To interrupt their slumbers
They shoot the horses when they′re too old to race
(The bull, the bear, the bull) x2
And so, my dear, is there room in bed for me?
(The bear, the bull, the bear, the morning paper will declare)
The setting Sun has etched lines upon this face
(The bull, the bear, the bull) x2
Shades of red of a furious defeat
(The bull, the bear, the bull) x2
Are you satisfied tonight, oh, trader's wife?
"I don't know you anymore,
And I can′t breathe in this apartment"