Rachmaninov on Classic FM

Rachmaninov’s emoting again,
all over Classic FM,
Always wanting his own way,
They let him do it nearly every day.
I bet he’d be like a man I once met,
Wanting to take me off in his car,
Home with him to lay on his bed.
His arms around me close and tight,
His mouth on mine, but no delight.
Trying hard to prevail,
A sense of cruelty making me quail.
Outside the station, I left him there,
To find a train, to anywhere…