Birds of a Feather

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?
But 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 end
Where I leave off and he begins

But who could do without you?
But 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