Birds of a Feather

Where she walks, no flowers bloom He's the one I see right through She's the abscess on my lip The splinter in my fingertip But who could do without you? And who could do without you? She's 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, we're 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 Butterflies around the flame Till ashes, ashes, we fade away --- Birds of a Feather - The Civil Wars