While he sits and stares At girls he can't explain Oh, here she comes On ten white horses Made of string and clay The flowers in his fingers Wilt away His wise old lover said That lies do not deceive So when she sleeps I'll leave her bed and Hurry home instead My soul is on a string Tied to her chair And why is it I pray To Gods that always fail To drag that girl back Through my window And undress my face And smile at me While I put on my chains Ah Ah Aahhh