I gave you a child and you didn't want it

That's the most that I have to give.

I gave you a house and you didn't haunt it

Now where am I supposed to live?



I gave you a tree and you did not embrace it

I gave you a nightmare and you didn't chase it

I'd give you a dream and you'd only wake from it

Now I'll never go to sleep again.

I'd give you a treasure and you'd only take from it

Look at the hole where jewelry had been.



Baby, oh baby, why must you escape from it --

This love that we once called our friend?



I gave you my body and you ate a-plenty

I gave you ten lives and you wasted twenty

Now I'm standing empty, helpless and bare

Without a morsel left of me to give.

And you, you have vanished into the air,

The air in which I must live.