The Real Tragedy

You’re dragging a needle across her skin

Hoping that she will someday let you in

You're thinking maybe you can stitch her up

Maybe you could drink from her poisoned cup

But what you don't know is how much she's smashed

Her body is splintered with broken glass

She's lived a thousand lives on a thin string

And you think you can fix her if you sing

But, honey, she's been dropped too many times

She's felt the moon's sting and paid for their crimes

She's a walking tragedy, killed by love

And now she's only a girl you write of

The real tragedy isn't that she's alone

But that she'll never find someone to call home