Dinner At Eight

No matter how strong I'm going to take you down with one little stone I'm going to break you down and see what you're worth What you're really worth to me Dinner at eight was okay before the toasts full of gleams It was great until those old magazines Got us started up again Actually it was probably me again But why is it so That I've always been the one who must go That I've always been the one told to flee When in fact you were the one Long ago, actually in the drifting white snow Who left me? So put up your fists and I'll put up mine No running away from the scene of the crime God's chosen a place Somewhere near the end of the world Somewhere near the end of our lives But till then no daddy don't be surprised If I want to see the tears in your eyes Then I know it had to be Long ago, actually in the drifting white snow You loved me --- Dinner at Eight - Rufus Wainwright