Text: Will Oldham. A Whorehouse Is Any House.

there's a woman i see at a bar that's near me
that catches my eye repeatedly
and so it's ? that i wait until four
when the bar turns its lights out and closes the door

and then i may follow her cautiously home
where she would go walking or stumbling alone
and i can't help but want to see her at her window
and to want to approach her and stand just alone

and i needed so much to have nothing to touch
and i wanted so dear to have nothing so near
and to render the city unbounded and pretty
so to slip in and out of her and then to slip off

goodbye to the city, goodbye to the girl
her room is left standing, her room is my world
and it it she slips into bed without thinking

and i follow closely for i have been drinking

and slip in beside her and she doesn't stir so
i settle up closer and warmer to her
and so the night passes and so the sun comes
as we sleep and we wander on what we have done

and i needed so much to have nothing to touch
and i wanted so dear to have nothing so near
and to render the city unbounded and pretty
so to slip in and out of her and then to slip off