–
The whisper of willow leaves,
Wind winding through the trees,
Can’t do a thing to ease
Thoughts like a million bees
Inside my head.
Nine hundred thousand
Are things that you said,
One hundred thousand more,
To make sure that I bled.
–
The whisper of willow leaves,
Wind winding through the trees,
Can’t do a thing to ease
Thoughts like a million bees
Inside my head.
Nine hundred thousand
Are things that you said,
One hundred thousand more,
To make sure that I bled.
