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