To the tune of Cleopatre's needle

I get up in the morning
The fish are still yawning
In the wild sea's coast
Far from the warning
That you felt it was burning
That I loved you the most

You never gave me your name
You gave me many things
That I called a shame
But you never did give me your name

So I can't remember now what you said to me
I can't recall what you thought or thanked
But maybe you were a Romanian
Maybe you were a Bulgarian
Maybe you held a glass in your hand
Well it was easier for me if you name it
Easier if you blame it
All on me

But you never gave me your name did you
So I guess that She will have to do