Arid tears, all made of dust
and little flowers, made to kill
pieces left just to remind us
of everything we've since held dear
still... we can't watch it leave
still... we can't see a thing
vacant tears, all made of rust
and pretty flowers, just as dry
pieces left of that adorned
and everything we've held so tight
still... we can't see a thing
still... we can't let it breathe