Why so sullen, my dear lover?
Why so lonely, why so glum?
You’re an angel in the evening,
But a devil with the sun.
There are suitors in the driveway,
So why don’t you go pick one?
If you asked, they’d buy your teardrops,
And for quite a lengthy sum.
Why so angry, my dear lover?
Why so lovely, why so red?
You despise the things you’re given,
And pretend you’re someone new.
You’re eternally ungrateful
For the things they’ve offered you.
They can give you gold and freedom,
And will love you till you’re dead.
Why so teary, my dear lover?
Why so dismal, why so sad?
With these riches laid before you,
And the promise of new love,
What’s the reason for your crying—
Is it me you’re thinking of?
Just pretend we never happened;
It can’t really be that bad.
Why so wary, my dear lover?
Why so distant and forlorn?
You and I, we’re just a figment;
We can’t really be a pair.
And I know that this is tricky—
Don’t you know that life’s not fair.
So I’ll stand and watch you leave me;
Hurry, you’ll be gone by morn.
Why so damaged, my dear lover?
Why so gentle, why so fine?
Could you tell them that you’re taken,
And leave it all on the line?
Could you leave them in their riches,
And all their fancy wine?
Until then I’m left thinking:
If only you could be mine…