My orchid has died I left it inside Away from the Sun When the birds did not come Oh, I'm sorry for the things that I can't do for you But in the morning I'll write another song for you And we collect stones From a man who breaks them all up To replace our bones When there's no more wine in our cups Oh, I'm sorry for the things that I can't do for you But in the morning I'll write another song for you Song for you, song for you (Song for you, song for you)