You make a lot of money; she makes a lot of time, counts it out, hands it over to you,
Never asking nothing in return, 'cause she trusts in you, believes in you too.
You go around in circles; she goes home alone - you could be there with her, but she's still on her own,
She's not looking for miracles, she just looking for love; all she wants is you, because that's enough.
She makes it all so easy, you make it all so hard,
You give her dirt and tie her to the earth, but she plants another flower in the sand.
You got all the best excuses in the world, but they're not reasons, they don't even rhyme,
She's a good woman, but you treat her like a bad little girl,
She's a loser in your little game, a victim of your big crime,
She's always trying to work it out; you're only trying just to fit her in to your self-serving plans and schemes,
She thinks you're worth it, so she hangs around, and hangs another day on shattered hopes and battered little dreams.
You trample down your dirt and harvest weeds,
Her love grows; she waters it so carefully,
You scatter all her seedlings with one wave of your hand, and she plants another flower in the sand.
