I'm Your Whipping Girl

I'm too busy

Being everybody's whipping girl

Getting the short side of the whip

In the ice from the trees

The flowers here

Never bloom

Someday i'll find

The sound from the moon

I'm looking for the sting

To wake me from beneath the cold

From down here

I can hear slight chirpings

From the birds of everyone else's

Spring

Down here in my own winter

Covered with the frost

Left from all the other boys

They never bothered to clean me up

How i'm drowning with my tool

Making a sharp crack,crack

With my whip

I'm too busy

Inside

My own snow