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