You stay in my arms
The sobbing stops when
I lift your poor-faced countenance
You're called a ***** girl, and sometimes a leitmotif
Indeed you have been a theme in my life
The guitar cries, and I can hear it weeping
Chains and things don't beat the feeling
Prudence isn't that you can lift up my spirits
Make me feel good in your assiduous inventive
Finding ways to make me cry
The friendship that breaks, you help me
Become broken again
Thanks for being there
When I can't contact my route manager