you're a withering willow that's been caught up in a storm   a river of negative thoughts and ugly forms   leave no stone unturned and no dress untorn   make him wish that he had never been born      you're a dark tree branch that's been dead on the ground   the weight of the snow dragging you down to where you were later found   citizens walk by but they won't do a thing   fall to your final sleep as their god damned cell phones ring      you're a fast-talking, card-swapping traveling man   out riding the rails doing the best that you can   look up and down and everything seems alright   things have changed, no use to put up any fight       you're a withering willow that's been caught up in a storm   a river of negative thoughts and ugly forms   leave no stone unturned and no dress untorn   make him wish that he had never been born