I Gave You
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.
(hoo ooo, ooo. hoo ooo ooo...)
I gave you my body and you ate aplenty
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