Be Careful, Little One

 

How many times will I 

hear the same story of a 

girl who saw a boy and

 fell in hopeless, mournful love?

How many times will I 

hold you in my arms

and tell you a grand tale

of your worth and your prevail?

How many times will you let him

dominate your life? Will you let him

cause you so much strife?

Will you let the pain begin?

How many times will you let him

break you like a lance,

string you like a doll, and make you dance?

 

 

Sweetie, all his little quirks don't give you wings,

they give you doubts about the order of things 

And all those little smirks don't serve a purpose,

they're just [wicked], ripe clauses, reserved for rings 

 

 

 

How many times will I 

see your heart in his hands?

He, that has no business in your world,

with that blood in his stance

And how many times will you 

misplace your sense of calm?

End up trapped in a web

Of his wealth and your qualms 

And how many times 

will you let him quench all your fears?

 And be left with nothing for you

besides the doubts of all the mirrored

How many times 

Can he manipulate your eyes

Until you stop seeing truth 

 only romantic, flashing signs?

 

 

Sweetie, all his little quirks don't give you wings,

they give you doubts about the order of things 

And all those little smirks don't serve a purpose,

they're just [wicked]ripe clauses, reserved for rings

 

Tell your mirror on the wall, 

there is no fair that all you know is falling

And tell the tears as they fall, 

they have a purpose more powerful than mourning 

And all those little lines he fed you, hoping you'd devour,

well, he's never really understood those with power 

And all those little lies, my dear, those dirty, broken  things-

 are only the fuel of cowards

 

 

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