Who Do You Think You Are?

Though the joke gets tired and sordid

Who do you think you are?
Who do you think you are?
Well, I'm the red-face gentleman
My coffee cup is unstained
My cigarette burns right down to the ash
Caught in this picture postcard
Trying my best to make the best of your absence
You fall into that false embrace
His courtesy's strained
But even at this distance it's not easy to accept
I close with my regards
Who do you think you are?
Thrilling your cheap little heart
Waiter hovers close at hand
The tres bon mots, you almost quote
I've fallen from your tired embrace

And sea-shell hearts get trampled under foot
Punchlines unrewarded
The vision that I chase returns when I least expect it

From your quiver of literary darts
Who do you think you are?

And kiss the air about her face
A thousand or so tuneless violins