It was treachery, sure It was August the first Big brown eyes, dark and pure, And that womanly thrust And the looks became words And each word was made flesh The heat of summer came screaming out of me and you And all our aimlessness And treachery too. You turned me Drew back every blind Shedding scalding light into corners that I didn't know Concerned me In that half-borrowed roon A short-term lease was assumed Then you went overground With some pale man you found Seems I was free to choose, Seen from this austere remove; Those parts within me Broken and reset your way Now made demands which I obeyed. You turned me And so the main event began And some bottles shed their load And some people shed their clothes you turned me You turned me Because I let it be that way And I worshipped the profane And those who helped me pray Deserved me. People like hotels, a night or two, on we go People like juries - don't look left, don't clear your throat, She's like a baby, believes in no-one else's pain, All glassy eyes and sanctified disdain. You turned me So it's the Nobel Prize for you Now you're looking so stately, pious yet shapely, Parading down the avenue. You turned me Or do I misremember, dear? I have nothing left to give that I could trade just to relive Those days when You turned me.