Duplexes of the dead

I went on down to the duplexes of the dead
Where the shades are drawn and the shadow's shut
Unless you know the magic word, seldom said but often heard
Bite your lip then spin around three times

On our honeymoon, my husband sat still
With a look in his eyes and a pen in his left hand
He wrote on the varnish the magic word, seldom seen and never heard
He shushed me, then slumped backwards dead asleep

I went grumpy sitting in the sun by the umbrella stand
Making every single unreasonable demand
I covered my head and went to the office pool, I dipped in reverent a re-soled mule
And asked the chlorine fumes if there was something they wanted to bring up