The girl cries, and she cries,The flower of her heartHas died in this winter seasonBecause her lover, who lived in this flowerAnd cared for it, and loved it,Has gone without a word.And he left her only the thorns for company.What cruelty, what ironyThat the girl who never cared at all beforeHas only the wounds in her heart to console herHas only her pillow to wipe her tearsWhen all she wants in this worldIs the boy who first discovered That she really could love.