Birds of a Feather

Where she walks, no flowers bloom

He's the one I see right through

She's the absinthe on my lip

The splinter in my fingertip

But who could do without you?

And who could do without you?

She the sea I'm sinkin' in

He's the ink under my skin

Sometimes I can't tell where I am

Where I leave off and he begins

But who could do without you?

And who could do without you?

Oh, we're a pretty, pretty pair

Yes, we are

All, all the king's horses

And all of his men

Couldn't tear us apart

Dancing with a ball and chain

Through it all we still remain

Butterflies around the flame

Till ashes, ashes, we fade away