Our room across is a mile wide
She comes and look now how you are the fireside
I'm watching, she's waiting to show you
The pearls in her Betsy Clark eyesShe sighs the whistling winds you sail in
She cries and you are alive
She's saying she's sorry and ohSo am I, so am I
For ninety seven days that should have been an hourI know it's all you can do when she's so very near
Praise be the King of the settee and his Guinevere
I'll get up and go out and no doubt
You're giving it all to her, ohSo am I, so am I
The ninety-seven days the fifteen blessed hours
And it's easy as it goes, so am I
How and hour of ninety days will soon run out of timeThe weight of the world has the head in your hands
She's Indian giving again
You're sorry and sick and you knowSo am I, so am I
The ninety seven days and fifteen sodding hours came to nothing
Taken in? So was I
She's going, going gone and you know that's fineAnd so am I