Where she walks no flowers bloom, He's the wall I see right through, She's the absinthe on my lips, The splinter in my fingertips. But who could do without you? Oh aren't we a pretty pair?, Yes we are, 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