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’s the sea I’m sinking 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
But through it all, we still remain
Like butterflies around a flame
'Til ashes, ashes, we fade away