They brought me a beautiful basket of fruit

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