On a silver platter, I brought you my heart
And it waits, this night, still looking for you,
One of many on your little pastry cart

And you’re the chief of culinary art
With your butter, dough, and icky white goo.
On a silver platter, I brought you my heart,

But you craved and took others, a la carte.
Her’s beat plaintively there, red and warm too-
One of many on your little pastry cart.

I finally understand your smooth black art
And all the things you said that never were true.
On a silver platter, I brought you my heart.

You burned and branded it, you hot little tart,
But still it waits faithfully, begging for you.
On a silver platter, I brought you my heart:
One of many on your little pastry cart.