You wrote your name on a paper and gave it to me;
for years in my pocket where no-one could see.
How can I change the way that I felt?
I slipped the paper in the pocket of somebody else.

Won�t you teach me to bear you?
Someone with matches; someone with bronze;
someone with blue eyes to gaze upon.
Your name, your whole story, your whole life to see.

The story you had given to me.
Won�t you teach me to bear you?
I want to read you a life of parties and wisdom,
of care and explosions and wild summer eves...

but my hands are empty,
and my throat cracked and drawn,
because I gave away the name you gave to me.
Yes I sang away the name you gave to me.