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.