And two finger bowls of glass
 The couch is gold with a floral design
 And the wine is Germany's best
 And the wine is Germany's best

 My thoughts drift ino the frozen night
 Frankfurt is covered with snow
 And numbly they ride on an icy wind
 To places they're longing to go
 To places they're longing to go

 I remember the tall dark Irish rose
 Who held me in my limousine
 And slept with me under a burgundy quilt
 With sheets of silk in between
 Well, anyway, that's how it seemed

 I thought I wanted to marry him
 His face was sculpted by God
 His words were gentle and ever so true
 And soft as the Irish fog
 And lost in the Irish fog

 I remember the boy from the monastery
 Who wanted to be a monk
 But he brought flowers and wine to my room
 And we both got happily drunk
 And we both got perfectly drunk

 He laughed like the chimes of a silver bell
 His eyes were alexandrite blue
 He danced the t'ai chi with the grace of a deer
 And I wanted to marry him too
 Yes I wanted to marry him too

 There was that son of a dog from the Tennessee hills
 Kept telling me I was still young
 He spoke in pure southern and smoothed out the lines
 Round my eyes saying I was the one
 Forever that I'd be the one

 He drank and he cussed and he wrote his own songs
 He was very much on the go
 We followed each other for over a year
 I couldn't have married him though
 So we just lived in sin on the road

 There was that black eyed beauty from Boston town
 Two days were never too long
 He stood by the mirror and picked out a rose
 But I already wrote him a song
 Yes, I already wrote him a song

 So here I sit with my basket of fruit
 And two finger bowls of glass
 I finished my bottle of Germany's best
 And concluded my thoughts on the past
 That love is a pain in the ass