Bechamel

I was in my shoes; I was in my coat
 Her apéritif smacked down my throat
 And a rack of lamb with a coq au vin
 Picking pot de crème off of jealous lips.
 Ignore the warning voice of my last appeal.
 I want her bones, and I want her flesh
 And that's all she'll give me; I want the rest
 So we drink too much, and we drink some more
 With the DNA soaked into the floor.
 Ignore the warning voice of my last appeal.
 Pack him off in ice
 Wrap me up in cellophane,
 The aftertaste like aspartame
 It's candy and it won't be tamed
 This love, this love.
 Dinner bell, my bitter little béchamel
 It's spoiled rotten, I can tell
 His love, his love, his love.
 Ignore the warning voice of my last appeal.
 Pack him off in ice
 Wrap me up in cellophane
 The aftertaste like aspartame
 It's candy, and it won't be tamed
 This love, this love
 Dinner bell, my bitter little béchamel
 It's spoiled rotten, I can tell
 His love, his love, his love
 His love, his love, his love.