My orchid has died
I left it inside
Away from the sun
When the birds did not come
Ooh, I'm sorry for the things that I can't do for you
But in the morning I will write another song for you
And we collect stones
From a man who breaks them all up
To replace our bones
When there's no more wine in our cups
Ooh, I'm sorry for the things that I can't do for you
But in the morning I will write another song for you
Song for you, song for you
Song for you
Song for you