The two – they feel always so fine,
Languish softly in each other’s arms,
Thinking not what by chance may become
Of the third odd-man-out left behind.

Oh wherever they go they can hear
Birds that sing to the beat of their hearts,
While the third rustles lonesome in rear
As a branch that's been tossed to the grass.

Oh they never will guess till it blossoms
How the winds that branch fiercely cast,
But, oh you, God all-seeing, show mercy,
Do not leave odd-man-out in the dark -

Who in glorious light of the two’s love
Is alone, stands unnoticed in rain,
Holds, so desperate, bunch of the flowers
Like the hair torn out in pain.