A shriek of his guitar,
Meant to be a howl to the moon.
The way you just sit there,
Surrounded by your gloom.
The way she just lays there,
Falling into the spinning room.

She lays there so dreadfully still,
He watches her silently.
He wants to ask her if she took her pill
If she didn’t he won’t know what she’s seeing,
As the rain falls on her windowsill
And she lays there with a deadpan face.

You sit there looking past me,
Your sorrow shining from within your eyes.
If only you could tell me what’s brought you down,
And surrounded your heart with this ice.
Tell me why you refuse to speak,
Tell me why you let out these stifled cries.

He plays the guitar,
Inside he feels the need to scream.
He stands on the stage
And watches her soul bleed.
This song was made for her,
But she can not hear it through her toxicity.
 
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