| He’s a company man, your right hand, 13 years and counting.
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| No detectable ambition, a model of efficiency, far as you can see.
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| He knows every loophole, the art of fine print, massages the numbers 'til they
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| fit.
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| And every time you ask him for another vanishing act, he half-smiles as if to
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| say:
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| Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want is fine by me.
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| Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want is fine by me.
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| Never a real moment together but she understands: you’re an important man.
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| Another late night. |
| don’t know if you’re coming home or when. |
| she’s alone again.
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| But she goes on curating your domestic museum. |
| she disappears in her loyalty.
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| She is a dress wearing a face in the doorway, opening her arms out to you:
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| Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want is fine by me.
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| Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want is fine by me.
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| No one would dare to question you, oh no.
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| No one would dare to stand up.
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| But in the night she leaves the papers in a tiny pile: evidence for her reasons.
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| And in the night he takes the main accounts and pulls the files,
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| detailing every treason.
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| I am the last one you’d ever suspect of setting the fire, of setting the fire.
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| But as you switch on your TV tomorrow morning, you’ll hear me saying quietly:
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| Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want is fine by me.
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| Whatever you want, whatever you want, whatever you want is fine by me.
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| Oh whatever you say, oh whatever you say:
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| I’ll do what you ask me, I’ll do what you ask me.
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| Oh whatever you say, oh whatever you say.
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| But do you know who’s listening?
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| Oh whatever you say, oh whatever you say,
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| You know it’s over! |