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