Sweetly, I sigh
Turn my head and cry
There's nothing else to do
Trust me, I've tried
But still you
For all I do
Think I am small
Or is that I, with all my gaul
Let this lady have her fare
She'll have no other way
Let me do, and cry
Or watch me die
When the masterpiece, complete
All my destiny to meet
I hold my brush
And place my leaf
But the paints are dry
My tears are wet, and so I cry
I look upon the blacks and blue
Look at them, and think of you
And what these would have made
Scars and wounds on bloody parade
It's better they did not pry
I feel relief and sigh
Still them, they try to mix
Still them, they try to fix
I smile, but curse their souls
Accident (ha!), I throw it all away
Oh! I wish they'd leave
The wet to dry; uncertainty conceive
Let me live and let me die.