you're a withering willow that's been caught up in a storm
a river of negative thoughts and ugly forms
leave no stone unturned and no dress untorn
make him wish that he had never been born
you're a dark tree branch that's been dead on the ground
the weight of the snow dragging you down to where you were later found
citizens walk by but they won't do a thing
fall to your final sleep as their god damned cell phones ring
you're a fast-talking, card-swapping traveling man
out riding the rails doing the best that you can
look up and down and everything seems alright
things have changed, no use to put up any fight
you're a withering willow who's been caught up in a storm
a river of negative thoughts and ugly forms
leave no stone unturned and no dress untorn
make him wish that he had never been born
