Birds Of A Feather
Where she walks, no flowers bloomHe's the one I see right throughShe's the absinthe on my lipsThe splinter in my fingertips
But who could do without you?And who could do without you?
She the sea I'm sinkin' inHe's the ink under my skinSometimes I can't tell where I amWhere I leave off and he begins
But who could do without you?And who could do without you?
Oh, aren't we a pretty, pretty pair?Yes, we areAll, all the king's horsesAnd all of his menCouldn't tear us apart
Dancing with a ball and chainThrough it all we still remainLike butterflies around a flameTill ashes, ashes, we fade away