She Sits On The Table

She sits on the table in a dress made of paper Diplomas all over the wall One university, one school of medicine She's overwhelmed by it all The nurse is all sympathy, voice of experience: Let's have a look at that eye It's going to look bad for a week, maybe more Go on, darling, it's all right to cry (CHORUS): How can I leave him, she is crying What could I do, where would I go? He didn't mean it, he will change someday Oh, God, how he used to love me so The doctor is busy, his manner professional She finds she must look at the floor He looks at her eye, at her ribs and her arm And it seems every last inch is sore The doctor is handsome, he smells of cologne And his figure's athletically slim He speaks disapprovingly: What did you do To deserve such a beating from him? (CHORUS) The policeman is waiting outside in the corridor He speaks to her as to a child He's friends with her husband, he's angry with her And he asks if there'll be charges filed She says she's not sure, she needs time to recover She feels beaten down in disgrace The policeman asks isn't she secretly glad For a man who'll keep her in her place --- She Sits On The Table - Tom Paxton