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Birds of a feather

by The Civil Wars

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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 the sea I´m sinkin´ in
He´s the ink under my skin
Sometimes I cain´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
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