|
Mary:
Do you really want some tame little creature who's going to agree
with everything you say?
Dylan: Sounds all right to me.
Mary: Oh, Lance. (sigh)
[E] |
|
Dylan: Oh Mary. (sigh) I was only joking.
[A] |
|
Mary: It's just a little bit too close to the truth
for my liking.
Dylan: What is the matter with you, huh?
Mary: You don't really want a wife, Lance.
All you want is some live-in housemate to fetch and carry
for you, preferably without an idea in her head.
[G] |
|
Dylan: That's rubbish. I'd be bored to death.
...What the hell's the matter with you?
You're so touchy.
[F] |
|
Mary: I am not.
Dylan: I try to talk to you. You bite my head off.
Mary: Something's happening to us, Lance.
[D] |
|
Dylan: What?
[B] |
|
Mary: I don't know...
Dylan: I always thought we had a pretty good marriage.
[C] |