| [00:16.98] |
He opens his eyes |
| [00:18.60] |
Falls in love at first sight |
| [00:20.60] |
With the girl in the doorway |
| [00:23.23] |
|
| [00:24.98] |
What beautiful lines |
| [00:25.79] |
|
| [00:26.91] |
Heart full of life |
| [00:27.91] |
|
| [00:28.54] |
After thousands of years |
| [00:29.73] |
|
| [00:30.54] |
what a face to wake up to |
| [00:32.67] |
He holds back a sigh |
| [00:34.35] |
As she touches his arm |
| [00:35.54] |
|
| [00:36.48] |
She dusts off the bed where til now he's been sleeping |
| [00:39.98] |
|
| [00:40.54] |
Under mires of stone |
| [00:41.85] |
|
| [00:42.42] |
The dry fig of his heart |
| [00:44.24] |
Under scarab and bone |
| [00:45.49] |
|
| [00:46.31] |
Starts back to its beating |
| [00:48.31] |
She carries him home |
| [00:57.93] |
|
| [00:58.81] |
In a beautiful boat |
| [00:59.87] |
|
| [01:00.93] |
He watches the sea from a porthole in stowage |
| [01:04.68] |
He can hear all she says |
| [01:06.57] |
As she sits by his bed |
| [01:08.32] |
And one day his lips answered her |
| [01:10.69] |
In her own language |
| [01:12.32] |
The days quickly pass |
| [01:13.57] |
|
| [01:14.26] |
He loves making her laugh |
| [01:15.44] |
|
| [01:16.32] |
The first time he moves it's her hair that he touches |
| [01:20.07] |
She asks "Are you cursed?" |
| [01:21.44] |
He says "I think that I'm cured." |
| [01:24.01] |
Then he talks of the Nile and the girls in ?bull rushes? |
| [01:27.82] |
|
| [01:44.70] |
In New York he is laid |
| [01:46.07] |
|
| [01:46.63] |
In a glass covered case |
| [01:47.76] |
|
| [01:48.63] |
He pretends he is dead |
| [01:50.01] |
|
| [01:50.51] |
People crowd round to see him |
| [01:52.45] |
But at night she comes round |
| [01:54.14] |
And the two wander down the halls of the tomb |
| [01:57.57] |
|
| [01:58.26] |
That she calls a museum |
| [01:59.70] |
|
| [02:00.32] |
But he stops to rest |
| [02:01.95] |
Then less and less |
| [02:03.26] |
|
| [02:03.95] |
Then it's her that looks tired |
| [02:05.95] |
Staying up asking questions |
| [02:07.14] |
|
| [02:07.76] |
He learns how to read |
| [02:09.76] |
From the papers that she is writing about him |
| [02:13.01] |
|
| [02:13.83] |
Then he makes corrections |
| [02:15.01] |
|
| [02:15.64] |
It's his face on her book |
| [02:17.70] |
More come to look |
| [02:18.83] |
|
| [02:19.89] |
Families from Iowa |
| [02:20.95] |
|
| [02:21.76] |
Upper West-Siders |
| [02:22.76] |
|
| [02:23.89] |
Then one day it's too much |
| [02:25.83] |
He decides to get up |
| [02:27.58] |
Then as chaos ensues he walks outside to find her |
| [02:31.45] |
She is using a cane |
| [02:32.83] |
|
| [02:34.01] |
And her face looks too pale |
| [02:35.95] |
But she's happy to see him |
| [02:37.77] |
As they walk he supports her |
| [02:39.52] |
She asks "Are you cursed?" |
| [02:41.58] |
But his answer is obscured |
| [02:43.02] |
|
| [02:43.64] |
In a sandstorm of flashbulbs |
| [02:45.64] |
Rowdy reporters |
| [02:47.14] |
|
| [03:21.08] |
Such reanimation |
| [03:22.21] |
|
| [03:22.90] |
The two tour the nation |
| [03:24.77] |
He gets out of limos |
| [03:26.59] |
Meets other women |
| [03:27.84] |
|
| [03:28.77] |
He speaks of her fondly |
| [03:29.96] |
|
| [03:30.52] |
Their nights in the museum |
| [03:31.71] |
|
| [03:32.34] |
She's just one more rag now he's dragging behind him |
| [03:36.65] |
She stops going out |
| [03:37.65] |
|
| [03:38.27] |
She just lies there in bed |
| [03:40.27] |
In hotels in whatever towns they are speaking |
| [03:43.40] |
|
| [03:44.40] |
Then her face starts to set |
| [03:46.02] |
|
| [03:46.59] |
And her hands start to fold |
| [03:48.27] |
Then one day the dry fig of her heart stops its beating |
| [03:52.21] |
|
| [04:10.51] |
Long ago on the ship |
| [04:12.39] |
She asked why pyramids |
| [04:13.70] |
|
| [04:14.70] |
He said "Think of them as an immense invitation." |
| [04:18.08] |
|
| [04:18.70] |
She asks "Are you cursed?" |
| [04:20.14] |
He says "I think that I'm cured." |
| [04:22.26] |
|
| [04:22.89] |
Then he kissed her and hoped |
| [04:24.45] |
|
| [04:25.08] |
That she'd forget that question |
