I make you my number one,
but I know I'm just your last resort,
when she's not around,
and you need some comfort...
I get it, you got back your Queen,
and you said to me, 'this is just a fling...,'
that, I'll take, being your Concubine,
'cause I'm okay, if you're the King...
There, gold leaves and crimson heart,
when you're together and you're not apart,...
And there I am, a prisoner in my own empty hearth,
clinging to my cold cup of tea, losing its warmth...
You said, 'please take care of me,
for at times I'm lonely...'
I said okay 'cause I fell for you,
'cause for me you're always too good to be true...
But deep down I ponder, who's going to take care of my heart,
by your spring... when you break it apart...?