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 eyes She sighs the whistling winds you sail in She cries and you are alive She's saying she's sorry and oh, So am I So am I For ninety seven days that should have been an hour I 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, oh
So 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 time The weight of the world has the head in your hands (She's Indian giving again) You're sorry and sick and you know So 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 fine And so am I