Tell the girl with the name
like a bird that you don’t think she’s crazy.
Tell her a boy will write a song
just for her someday.
And if you know he won’t,
if you think she’s insane,
just don’t let her know you think that way.

She’s seen the dark side of the moon,
the pits of hell ablaze, stared darkness
in the face and still stands here today.
Give or take a few things,
she’s still the same as she was three years ago,
so tell her a boy will write a song for her.
Even if you know he won’t.

She needs a lie, an easily-believed
snow-white lie. Tell the girl with the
name like a bird that she looks
beautiful today. That you’re so glad
she’s doing okay. That a boy will write a song
just for her someday. I can almost promise
she’ll believe it.

She’s not easily fooled, but when you’re
empty a little bit of hope can do the job
of getting you filled. So tell her you don’t
think she’s crazy, that the boy she’s been wishing
for all winter will come her way, and he’ll
write a song about being in love with her
someday.