Previously on Dead Ringers...
We're having a baby, Beverly.
I know.
- A baby. A baby. - I know.
And, um, Elliot's not here to fuck it up.
You've prayed away
all your guilt about murdering old ladies?
It's like you said: it never happened.
No body showed up.
Just a bad trip.
Birthing centers all over the country.
Pop, pop, pop, pop. We go fast.
What are you researching?
Everything.
Want a guinea pig?
Why don't you make an appointment?
We occasionally operate on a delivery system.
She wanted you, so I got you.
Genevieve.
No.
Beverly.
I haven't written a word in 17 months.
Not a word.
This is not an exaggeration.
I haven't put pen to paper in all that time.
Sick with anxiety.
Deep in some cousin of depression.
Apathetic. Defiant.
Out of love with the world and everyone in it.
Most of all
me.
Until...
I need a favor.
Hello, Rebecca. Don't do that.
How are you? How's Susan?
I'm not spitting on your dick
before I stick it in, Silas.
I need you to write a profile.
No, thank you. Mantle Twins.
Freaky little vagina doctors.
Nice headline. Puff piece.
We're opening a birthing center in Alabama,
and I want you to follow them around,
writing about how fucking mesmeric they are.
No. It's not a fucking request.
Besides,
you can't afford to say no.
Good morning, Dr. Mantle.
Hello.
Are you okay?
You sure?
Yes. Yes.
It's a miracle.
Do you believe in miracles, Beverly?
Take a step towards the forest.
Hear the crack beneath your feet.
- Leaves. Branches.
Soft, rich earth between your toes.
Now look up.
Green, birds and blue sky
just beyond the trees.
Place your hands where your baby is.
Take a deep breath in.
All the way out.
Step into the clearing.
Hear the sound of the waterfall.
There it is.
Up ahead.
Feel the sun on your shoulders,
on your back,
on your belly.
Light is coming.
Oh.
Are you all right?
- You're all packed. Great.
Thank you.
Have a wonderful time.
You okay?
Mm-hmm.
Are you excited?
Mm-hmm.
I love you, Elly.
Baby sister.
Oh, this is... Perfect.
Awful. - Yeah.
We're all going to hell.
Would you describe yourself as an addict, Elliot?
- No. - No.
You're not in recovery?
I mean, I wouldn't use that language.
Well, you're talking like an addict.
You're not in a program?
- No. - Nope. No sponsor?
- No. - No. No support network?
I have my sister.
And that's it?
That's the whole network?
It's impossible to explain this relationship
to anyone outside of it, Silas.
We don't need anyone else.
We never have.
It just got unhealthy. The drinking, the drugs.
Yeah, it wasn't fun.
Really?
I was hallucinating.
Depressed. I was in pain.
And look, everything's moving fast for us.
- The center. - The lab.
We got everything we ever wanted.
We're going to be parents.
"We" as in...?
I'm having twins, Silas.
We're raising them together.
- Parent one, parent two. Okay.
- Two little babies, Silas. I heard.
Everything we ever wanted.
You don't feel overwhelmed?
Honestly? No.
Or conflicted?
Rebecca Parker's private plane whisking you off
to ribbon-cut birthing center number two
in a city you've never been to,
in a state you've never been to
before your flagship's three months old?
That's what you wanted?
Yes.
That's what you always wanted?
Yes.
How was your flight?
It was a gift from Rebecca, the plane.
Isn't she beautiful?
Welcome to Montgomery.
Are y'all ready to murder each other yet?
[chuckles] Oh, sure.
A little light throttling.
Are you exhausted, Beverly?
Oh, no, I'm fine. - Well, your room's all ready
if you want to go have a lie down. Just let me know.
I had a dream last night...
Oh, good. - ...that the plane just crashed.
And it was just in the middle of the field,
burnin' up, and none of us knew,
so we were just waiting for you to show up.
That's a great story.
I hope you're going easy on my Mantles, Silas.
It's a puff piece, remember?
Oh, sure. I remember.
None of your New Yorker jugular. We only want compliments.
Well, come on in and meet Daddy.
He's dyin' to meet you. He's a doctor, too, you know.
Really? You never said.
Oh, girls.
I did.
Daddy,
here are the twins.
Beverly, Elliot, this is Daddy,
Dr. Marion James.
- Hello. - Hi.
And these are my sisters,
and that's Memaw.
How are you?
And this is Silas Jordan.
You've heard of him.
No, not at all.
Daddy, yes, you have. He won a Pulitzer.
And now he's writing an article for us all about the twins,
and he's only gonna say nice things.
Well, that shouldn't be difficult.
Aren't they wonderful?
Yes.
Yes, they really are.
Hmm.
How are you feeling, Florence?
Oh, I feel fine.
Thank you, Doctor.
I'm excited.
Are you very uncomfortable?
Um, I don't want to complain.
I'm so lucky.
And we're at the end now.
I can bear it for one more night.
Would you like to examine the mother, Doctor?
Um...
Well, that's not necessary.
We read the paperwork.
Everything's set for tomorrow.
As long as Florence feels well.
- I really do. - As far as I can tell,
- she's had excellent medical care. - Oh, she has.
I have.
Daddy's looked after me so well.
That's, uh...
- Yeah. - I don't think a physical exam
is strictly necessary.
Well, you're delivering
this woman's quadruplets in the morning.
First patient at the center.
Surely, you'd want to do a head count?
W-Well, she's having quadruplets,
so at least one baby will be tucked
- behind the other. - This is your patient, Doctor.
- Yes, and I... - She's never had a baby before. She's anxious.
- I'm sure, but... Doctors, I'd like you to.
Okay.
Is there somewhere we can go?
I was not suggesting you do a vaginal exam, Doc.
- Just-just have a feel.
Would you like some privacy, Florence?
No, not at all.
This is my family.
Mm.
Hmm.
- Mm. - Um... Hmm.
Well...
Ah, there we go.
One.
Uh, two.
Three.
Four.
- Alabama. Mm-hmm.
Have you been before?
Nope.
Mantle Parker Center Alabama.
How come?
Susan's hometown.
Well, is-is that a good reason?
Alabama has
the sixth highest maternal mortality rate in the States.
As we expand,
those are the places we want to be working.
You're really riding in on that English white horse
to save all the poor Black folk in the South
that you know nothing about.
That's not what we're doing.
No, that's right. You're going to welcome
the offspring of the rich white ladies
while the poor Black folk look on.
That isn't what we're doing.
Okay.
What are you doing, then?
Ah, yes.
Beverly, Elliot, do twins
run in your family?
No. Not until we arrived.
A gift.
- And do twins run in your family?
All the way back.
I'm a twin, and Marion was a twin.
- I was. Died right after he was born.
He was so small, and this one was so fat.
I think you'd been eating him in there.
- We'll never know. Held him in the palm of my hand,
and then they whisked him away to the incinerator.
- That's how it was back then. Memaw,
this is not dinner conversation.
Birth is violent, Florence James,
and you're not built for it.
I-I think they're just gonna cut them out of me.
Birth isn't violent when you have the Mantle Twins, Memaw.
Is that so? - Elliot,
tell Daddy about the baby you just delivered.
Twenty-four weeks old.
Thriving.
Did you really?
Not just healthy.
Thriving. I mean it. I mean, honestly,
nobody believed it, could they, Silas?
No, it was extraordinary.
Well, that's very impressive.
Is that the earliest you've successfully delivered a baby
- at the center? It is.
Hmm. Do you think
- you could manage even earlier? - Yes.
Well, it's impossible to say.
Well, it's all about the environment they grow in.
Of course.
That's hand in hand
with the abortion debate, isn't it?
Hmm?
The earlier life is viable outside of the womb,
the more powerful
the anti-abortion movement's argument is, no?
Save a baby when it's 16,
17, 18 weeks, and suddenly a woman
loses the right to safely ending her pregnancy.
Now, this is not
appropriate dinner conversation.
No, not at all, Mother. It's fascinating.
I think so.
Is it even possible, Elliot?
To save a baby that young?
Fifteen weeks? Fourteen weeks?
No.
The mother in this case
had how many miscarriages? Four? Five?
Yes.
You did the fertility work, too?
No.
You did.
That's fascinating science.
Uh, no. She-she,
uh, did the treatment elsewhere and then had no medical support.
It was highly unusual.
She had the treatment with you.
We are so limited in terms of what we know
about life at its earliest stages.
Well, we have been, yes.
Florence had several miscarriages.
- You don't mind? Oh, I-I did.
- And no. - Now look at her.
- Yes. - I'm so lucky.
Monochorionic quadruplets.
And that means...?
All four share a placenta.
Is that not very high-risk?
It can be.
Well, shouldn't she-- sorry, you-- be in a hospital?
She's not sick, Silas.
Pregnancy isn't a disease.
You do love that line, don't you, Beverly?
I said no jugular, Silas.
No, I've just... I've just heard Beverly use that
on about four different occasions.
It's a good fuckin' line.
Scribble it down in your fuckin' notebook.
Susan. I'm sorry.
So, have you always lived here, Mr. James?
Oh, we've been here for centuries, Beverly.
Mm-hmm. It must have been very difficult,
raising your children on your own.
Well, he wasn't all alone.
Oh, no. Sorry, of course.
I just meant that the death of a mother
is a hugely traumatic event.
Death of the mother?
Oh, I'm sorry. I-I thought, um...
She didn't die.
She just left.
Hmm.
It was like a death, Beverly.
I was really just a family doctor.
Whatever was needed.
However I could help.
House calls.
Man of the house,
lady of the house, the little ones,
the governesses, the guests.
Whatever was required. Whoever needed me.
I became known for helping women.
Women's health became my specialty.
I don't know why.
It chose me.
Perhaps the company I kept.
It hadn't seemed to be important enough to anybody,
women's health.
It was like beginning from nothing.
Being the first one there.
The woman's body.
Completely uncharted territory,
undiscovered land.
New borders, new edges.
New fields.
It is wonderful to go where no man has gone before.
To be there at the beginning.
First page.
Shape the future.
I set up consulting rooms here.
My own little hospital.
We built what was necessary.
Created tools which hadn't yet existed.
Named parts,
afflictions, ailments no one had discovered.
Cervical dysplasia.
Endometrial hyperplasia.
Pelvic floor prolapse.
Dysfunctional uterine bleeding.
Childbirth.
Fertility.
Childbirth.
Fertility.
Childbirth.
Fertility.
Though I had nothing like the number of patients
you have to practice on.
I often had to make do with, um... Hmm.
Well,
we don't practice on our patients, Mr. James.
Of course you do. Your profession
is a verb.
You don't think you get better
with every incision and every stitch?
You've never made a mistake with one patient,
learnt from it and applied what you learnt to the next?
You've never taken an opportunity?
A body presenting itself.
A moment to improve,
to practice, in order to move the profession forward?
I-I don't see it like that.
Huh.
Elliot does.
You may not think of it like that, Beverly,
but that does not mean it is not so.
I think about the start.
How we began.
The shoulders we stand on.
The doctors. The patients, Beverly.
A young woman
in the 1840s, 1850s.
Seventeen. Pregnant.
She had a severe form of rickets
brought on by malnutrition and lack of vitamin D.
Her pelvis was severely disfigured.
She labored
for several days, but, um...
it was impossible for her to give birth.
The doctor was called late, and, of course,
the baby had died by the time he arrived.
She was brought back to the doctor.
Tears, fistulas in her vagina.
She was in an extraordinary amount of pain.
Uh, none of this, of course, was unusual for the time.
In fact, the opposite.
Young women suffered from this constantly.
But there was no cure, no treatment.
Nobody was looking
at how to solve this,
how to make this better.
So, she and the doctor worked together.
The doctor and the young woman
took 30 separate procedures.
No anesthetic.
Thirty separate procedures to repair it.
And the doctor did repair it.
And that took a great deal of practice,
of effort.
But he did it. They did it.
And that work was handed down
from doctor to doctor to doctor to doctor
until it reached my hands.
Your hands.
Well, that's barbaric.
That's history.
What you're describing doesn't happen anymore.
Oh, we are never very far from our history.
Hmm.
♪ As I went down ♪
♪ In the river to pray ♪
♪ Studying about that good old way ♪
♪ And who shall wear the starry crown ♪
♪ Good Lord ♪
♪ Show me the way ♪
♪ Oh, sisters, let's go down ♪
♪ Let's go down ♪
♪ Come on down ♪
♪ Oh, sisters, let's go down ♪
♪ Down in the river to pray...
What'd you do then, Elliot?
With your once barren,
suddenly fecund woman?
♪ That good old way...
Was it God?
Are you God?
♪ Good Lord...
How did you create life where it would not grow?
♪ Sisters, let's go down ♪
♪ Let's go down, come on down...
I did a combination of things.
Such as?
Can you tell me what happened?
My water broke.
- About two hours ago. - Okay.
- Okay, breathe, breathe. Elliot.
Uh, very premature delivery.
Twenty-four weeks old.
- Elliot, I... Breathe, Lenka.
Breathe with me. Um, please, could you help me?
I am not an obstetrician,
- Elliot. - Oh, I'll-I'll be...
I'll be... I'll be right back.
One second. Please, can you help me?
We are in a fucking birthing center. Get someone else.
I can't.
C-Call Beverly.
I can't.
She had an unusual, high-risk implantation procedure
that was not technically legal, and I have no fucking idea
- what the implications of that might be.
She had had multiple miscarriages.
We couldn't find the reason, so I grew the embryo--
her embryo-- a little longer before implantation.
- How much longer?
Four weeks.
You put a four-week-old embryo inside of her?
Her waters broke two hours ago.
Please, help me.
- Please, please help her.
- I... Breathe, breathe, breathe.
Breathe.
- Yes. Yes, okay, breathe.
Hi. Hi. Hi. I'm Tom.
Uh... Okay, yeah, you're-you're doing so great.
- We're gonna meet your baby.
♪ As I went down ♪
♪ To the river to pray ♪
It's a secret.
♪ Studying about that...
Perhaps.
♪ And who shall wear...
Have you done something very clever?
♪ Good Lord, show me the way ♪
Perhaps.
♪ Oh, sisters ♪
♪ Let's go down, let's go down ♪
♪ Come on down ♪
♪ Oh, sisters, let's go down ♪
♪ Down in the river ♪
♪ To pray ♪
♪ As I went down in the river ♪
♪ To pray...
Oh.
Oh, my goodness, Beverly.
- Let me get a napkin. - I'll get some water. - Are you okay?
Did you see the birth?
Elliot was here.
That's unusual.
She was here.
He's going to be okay?
I can't believe it. I don't understand.
But he can breathe on his own.
No signs of jaundice.
Doesn't make any sense.
We were ready with CPAP, ET tubes, ventilators, cannulas,
but honestly, he-he...
...didn't need any of it.
- It's amazing. - Mm.
Mm.
How are you feeling, uh, about yours?
Can I ask you something, Beverly?
Mm. - Um...
Are you in touch with Genevieve?
I hear from her lawyers.
Visitation questions and practicals, really.
It's straightforward enough.
It's not traumatic or...
She's leaving the country
in a couple of weeks to shoot a film,
and then she doesn't want to see me.
Do you want to see her?
You must have loved her very much.
It seems that way.
I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to...
She doesn't exist.
I have to pretend she never existed.
♪ Learning lines in the rain ♪
♪ Special effects by...
Very sad.
Very, very sad.
♪ She's in parties ♪
♪ It's in the can ♪
♪ She's in parties...
Sad today.
Sad tomorrow.
Beverly?
Baby sister?
I'm fine.
What happened?
I don't know.
I just felt ill, Elliot.
It's all just been a bit silly. Just a joke.
It's not real, Beverly.
Beverly?
Hi.
Shoot.
You found me.
She was so sad.
All of the time.
You don't have to explain this. It's none of my business.
She drank a lot.
She'd turn up at school sometimes,
and she'd be really out of it, and...
...it was so embarrassing.
I hated her.
She'd cry or she'd scream at us.
She used to say that she wished that she died having us...
...or that we died inside of her.
I think that's why I tell people that's what happened.
Turn her into an angel. Just like she wanted.
And she kept on having us and I don't know why.
I used to think it was...
...because each time she hoped that it would get better, but...
...that's not really true,
'cause she never had hope.
It was Daddy.
He wanted us all so much.
He's wonderful, isn't he?
You should get some rest.
You're gonna be such a beautiful mom.
- ♪ When routine bites hard ♪
♪ And ambitions are low ♪
♪ And resentment rides high ♪
♪ But emotions won't grow ♪
♪ Then love, love will tear us apart ♪
♪ Again ♪
♪ Love, love will tear us ♪♪
Babies.
Fucking parasites.
Hmm.
Do you have kids?
Aren't you trained not to ask that?
To women, sure.
Mm.
You never wanted kids?
I'm having them, Silas.
- What? - Beverly's having them.
- No, we're having them. - I read this interview
with Genevieve Cotard from a while back,
and she talked about longing.
She used that word.
A longing for them.
A physical ache.
- That's not your experience? - No.
- That's not how you felt? - No.
- You don't feel maternal? - No.
- Couldn't actually give a fuck about babies? - Nope!
- In this game for the science? - Yes.
So, here you are.
Babies, a home, a fucking dog.
What changed?
I have two daughters and a son.
How was that?
I was really good at the pregnancy shit...
...when we all still had the potential.
Mm-hmm.
I thought you didn't do this anymore, Elliot.
- I don't. - Oh.
Sure. Uh...
How's that working out for you?
You're a drinker.
- I'm a drinker.
You're thinking about your third drink
while you're sipping your first.
I am.
You ever tried to give up for anyone?
The stakes are a little lower for me, Elliot.
Well, you have kids, you just said.
All my ships have sailed.
But you, you're gonna be a mom.
A mommy.
You're at the beginning of a beautiful journey.
You ever try a program?
- Like A.A.? - Mm-hmm.
Oh, sure.
- It didn't work out? - It works fine.
I can always stop whenever I want.
I just...
never want.
There's no trauma, I just...
I just really fucking like drinking.
Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.
So, um...
what'd you hallucinate?
A little old homeless lady called Agnes.
- Wow. - Mm-hmm.
It was the most intense fucking thing.
I became totally convinced that I'd pushed her off my balcony.
- That's... - Wee...
- ...a lot. - Yes, sir.
Do you hallucinate in general?
Nope.
Why are you doing this?
- It's my job. - No, not asking me questions.
This.
This fucking shitty magazine
smiley twins fucking soul-pummeling shit.
You write books.
- I wrote some books. - They were good.
You're Mr. Pulitzer. You're a writer.
I'm a professor who fucked his students.
No one sees Pulitzer anymore.
Oh, no one's allowed to fuck anybody anymore.
That's a bold line.
Patients, students, nothing's allowed.
- Oh, you fuck your patients? - It would be rude not to.
Mm.
Did you fuck Genevieve Cotard...
...or was that just your sister?
Yeah, yeah.
What's going on in your lab?
How'd you get that woman pregnant?
Oh.
How come that baby's such a miracle?
What Frankenstein shit are you up to?
Oh, my God.
I'm so sorry, I...
A young woman was brought to a man.
She was 17.
She was enslaved.
She had a severe form of rickets.
She was pregnant and she had been in labor for three days.
Her pelvis was disfigured,
making the birth of the baby impossible.
The baby was stillborn.
After the birth of her stillborn baby,
the young woman who was 17 and enslaved
and suffered a severe form of rickets due to malnutrition
and a vitamin D deficiency
was taken to the man in excruciating pain
due to fistulas which occurred due to the trauma
she endured during childbirth.
Her situation was common
among enslaved women at the time.
The young girl who was 17 and was enslaved
and suffered a severe form of rickets
and had a disfigured pelvis and had given birth
to a stillborn baby when she was 17 and enslaved
was operated on over 30 times by this man
over the course of five years, each time without anesthetic.
In spite of the fact that anesthesia
had recently become available.
All we know of this girl called Anarcha,
who was 17 and enslaved
and was forced to give birth to her stillborn baby
and who was operated on 30 times without anesthetic
and who had a disfigured pelvis and suffered
a severe form of rickets and was 17 and enslaved,
we only know because of what a white man,
specifically, the white man who tortured
the 17-year-old girl and experimented on her
in order to be named the Father of Gynecology
and honored with statues and medals
and examination positions and medical tools in his name.
What that white man wrote down is the only information we have
about that 17-year-old girl who was enslaved
and suffered a severe form of rickets
and had a disfigured pelvis and had given birth
to a stillborn baby.
We do not know who she really was
or what she felt when she held her stillborn baby,
if indeed she ever did get to hold her stillborn baby.
We do not know what she was most afraid of.
We can guess at it,
based on the trauma she was forced to endure,
but we do not know her.
We do not know how she moved or what she ate,
what she loved, what made her cry,
what she felt in her body that was her own.
We do not know her and she is not yours to know.
You cannot have her trauma
or her imagined hope.
She is not your device
or your fig leaf or your projection
or your romanticization
or yours at all
in any way, in fact.
You don't get to follow.
There is joy out here.
On the other side.
But it is not yours.
Beverly?
Oh, I'm...
I'm fine.
It's not mine.
It's not my blood. It's not my... not my blood.
Goodbye.
Well, can you at least tell us what happened?
Well, what-what's happening over there?
- I mean, what are those people doing?
Some old lady.
Found in the gutter on the back roof of that building.
Guess she'd jumped, aiming for the street,
and hit it on the way.
Oh...
She'd been there for ages.
...fuck.
It's starting. It's starting.
Elliot, you don't mind, do you?
Whatever Florence wants.
I'm so happy.
How are you doing, Florence?
Wonderful, thank you.
Suction, please.
We're nearly ready to meet first baby.
Oh, my God.
I'm so proud of you. - I'm so grateful.
We're looking to get all four babies out pretty fast.
- Okay, Florence? Okay.
Zero to four in about as many minutes, okay?
I'm so excited.
All right.
Here we go, Florence, baby number one.
I have the head.
Oh, my goodness.
Oh. Are you ready?
Oh.
There we go. Well done, Florence.
Your first daughter.
Oh, my God, is she okay?
She's... she's great, yes.
Let's, uh, keep focused on who's coming next.
More to come.
Number two.
Here we go. Suction, please.
Oh, look at that. Oh...
Baby number two, here she is.
Congratulations, Florence.
Oh...
Can I ask one more question?
Yes.
Why do you keep lying to each other?
When did it start, you think?
Baby number three, here we go.
Beverly never loved Genevieve.
Very sweet. Oh, my God.
Elliot's laboratory fantasies
are only fantasies.
People matter.
Baby number four.
People matter. Other people matter.
They're not just matter for Elliot's experiments.
Almost there, sweetheart. - You both want these babies.
- These fucking babies.
What's happening? Genevieve doesn't exist,
and the two of you live happily ever after.
Elliot! Oh, my...
Forever and ever.
Elliot, get away from her! - And ever and ever.
Well, it's a fuckup.
But at least it's in-house, as it were.
What did you say?
I said at least it's in-house, Marion.
As in, yeah, she's your daughter,
but it's also my money, my name
and given that I own your fucking house
and everything in it, that's probably gonna make it
less of a fucking problem.
Where's your sister?
Outside.
She's banished from the great house?
Yes, she's banished.
She mutilated my daughter.
Oh, mutilating women sounds right up
your twisted birth canal, Marion.
It's on fucking Twitter, which is a problem.
- So get it off. - I'm trying, sweetheart,
but thank you.
I don't get what the big fuckin' deal is.
- Susan. - It's a bladder.
No one's gonna get sad about a bladder.
No one's gonna be able to write a misery memoir about a bladder.
For fuck's sake, can everyone stop being so fuckin' depressed?
Let's just get Elliot the fuck outta here
in her sad little rental car and on we fuckin' go.
- Susan. - Fuck off, Memaw.
- Susan! - Oh, don't Susan her, Marion.
Why did you give him a girl's name?
Were you hoping for pure fucking psycho from the cradle?
I always knew it was good that there was two of you.
It's just a shame.
She's my favorite.
I can't explain it.
It's a miracle.
Beverly!
No!
No...
Are you done?
Want me to drive?
Hey, you okay?
I can't do this without you.
I don't want to do anything without you.
Genevieve, I've left her.
I've left her.
She doesn't exist.
Stop writing, Silas.
Silas.
No one wants the article anymore, Silas.
There's no story here.
I haven't written in months.
Keep it up.
Haven't had anything to give a fuck about.
Good. - No truth to excavate.
Nothing's had meaning, Rebecca.
Not writing has been like a project,
an obsession to tend to, to nurture.
Are you reading me your diary?
Are you going to get your guitar out?
I'd forgotten I was a writer.
I'd lost who I was.
Stay fucking lost.
Until I met the Mantle Twins.
♪ You were working as a waitress in a cocktail bar ♪
♪ When I met you ♪
♪ I picked you out, I shook you up ♪
♪ And turned you around ♪
♪ Turned you into someone new ♪
♪ Now five years later on you've got the world at your feet ♪
♪ Success has been so easy for you ♪
♪ But don't forget it's me who put you where you are now ♪
♪ And I can put you back down too ♪
♪ Don't, don't you want me? ♪
♪ You know I can't believe it ♪
♪ When I hear that you won't see me ♪
♪ Don't, don't you want me? ♪
♪ You know I don't believe you ♪
♪ When you say that you don't need me ♪
♪ It's much too late to find ♪
♪ When you think you've changed your mind ♪
♪ You'd better change it back or we will both be sorry ♪
♪ Don't you want me, baby? ♪
♪ Don't you want me? Oh! ♪
♪ Don't you want me, baby? ♪
♪ Don't you want me? Oh! ♪
♪ I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar ♪
♪ That much is true ♪
♪ But even then I knew I'd find a much better place ♪
♪ Either with or without you ♪
♪ The five years we have had have been such good times ♪
♪ I still love you ♪
♪ But now I think it's time I lived my life on my own ♪
♪ I guess it's just what I must do ♪
♪ Don't, don't you want me? ♪
♪ You know I can't believe it ♪
♪ When I hear that you won't see me ♪
♪ Don't, don't you want me? ♪
♪ You know I don't believe you ♪
♪ When you say that you don't need me ♪
♪ It's much too late find ♪
♪ When you think you've changed your mind ♪
♪ You'd better change it back or we will both be sorry ♪
♪ Don't you want me, baby? ♪
♪ Don't you want me? Oh! ♪
♪ Don't you want me, baby? ♪
♪ Don't you want me? Oh! ♪