Birds of a Feather

Where she walks, no flowers bloom

He's the one I see right through

She's the absinthe on my lips

The splinter in my fingertips

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, aren't we 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

Like butterflies around a flame

Till ashes, ashes, we fade away