You are a gnarled pear tree,

Near an Oak that binds your bitter roots.

Beneath its living branches

Fingers bend and ache with rotting fruit.

And I am sorry, sorry, sorry for my shade.

Uprooted to protect you.

Sorry, sorry, sorry for my shade.

What a stick figure I have made.

You are a bitter brother in the shadow of a twin.

Strangled in a warm embrace.

You have grown up savage, mean and thin.

And I am sorry, sorry, sorry for my arms.

I tried to protect you.

Sorry, sorry, sorry for my arms.

I have darkened all of your charms.

You are a jack-o-lantern,

Who woke up on a bitter winter morn.

Your skin, soft and sallow.

Your short season has now come and gone.

I am sorry, sorry, sorry the time.

Your ruined face, some reflection of love.

Sorry, sorry, sorry for the time.

Your ruined face, perfect of mirror of love.