[Verse 1: yelping new wave male lead, wiry and quick over the driving drums] Bauman's on the corner, seven windows facin' Main I'm the guy who dresses dummies when the street is slick with rain Midnight with a staple gun, a ladder and a wig Every Monday a new season, every Monday a new gig And across the street there's Rosalind, the flowers and the awning She unlocks at six o'clock and she is hummin' every mornin' I can't talk to her, I tried it, bought a lily, and I choked Walked out holdin' it like a torch, said, "Nice weather," like a joke [Chorus: yelping new wave male lead, the keyboard riff ringing] It's only window dressing, plaster people in a pose It's only window dressing, sellin' scarves and sellin' clothes But every night I turn 'em round to face across the street It's only window dressing, but it says what I can't speak [Verse 2: faster, the bass pumping] Week one, a plaster lady with a bunch of tulips at her chest Week two, a plaster fella wavin', in his Sunday best Week three, the two of them beneath a red umbrella in the rain Week four, he's holdin' out a card, it's blank, I chickened out again And she's standin' in her doorway every mornin', starin' through With her coffee goin' cold, and I don't know if she knew Mr. Bauman taps the glass and says, "It's coats, son, not a show It's only window dressing," and I tell him, "Yes, I know" [Chorus: the keyboard riff ringing] It's only window dressing, plaster people in a pose It's only window dressing, sellin' scarves and sellin' clothes But every night I turn 'em round to face across the street It's only window dressing, but it says what I can't speak [Verse 3: the chord freeze, the guitar locked on one chopped chord while he yelps it, then the band lets go] Friday mornin', six o'clock, I'm walkin' in with coffee in my fist And I stop dead on the sidewalk, 'cause there's somethin' that I missed Her window's got a table with a cloth and chairs for two And a hundred yellow tulips and a card in letters blue "Friday, eight o'clock," it says, "and wear the Sunday suit" "And leave the plaster fella home, I want the one who's real, not mute" Mr. Bauman reads it over my left shoulder, laughin' in his tie Says, "Take Friday off, it's only window dressing," and I'm high [Bridge: yelping new wave male lead, the drums pounding the floor] Plaster hands and plaster eyes and plaster hearts that don't come true Everything I couldn't say, I put it in the glass for you [Chorus: everything in] It's only window dressing, plaster people in a pose It's only window dressing, sellin' scarves and sellin' clothes But every night I turn 'em round to face across the street It's only window dressing, but it says what I can't speak [End]
