I pick my scars till they open in the dark
Pry the question loose to leave another mark
And oh that weeping old willow
She really knows how to cry
Still asking the questions
To know when and why?
The questions in question are always so hard to tell
We never say goodbye until we lose ourselves
And oh that weeping old willow
She has a reason to cry
And always acting so mellow
She would never seem to say why
I feel the willow cry
I don't bother to ask why
We copied ourselves
To feel like someone else
And oh that weeping old willow
She can't afford to cry
And always acting so mellow
She smiled and then said goodbye
All that living on the silver screen
From the bottom it looks so prestine
Little did you know she tried to kill herself
To leave a life controlled by someone else