the flowers have wilted on the sill and words have been kept so small and still and yet if the great opinion speaks then sadly we nod our heads and agree barely a mention of your name on deaf ears a distant whisper whatever no one gets it it s already overdue you will not be heard by many now but i ll always be amazed by every sound your ever made while building a tolerance to them you made sorrow sound like a good friend the well where the poison pen was drawn the same place you trusted then but was gone enemies battled in your mind until all the blood shed leaked down dried up and rusted the fight it s already overdue you will not be heard by many now but i ll always be amazed by every sound you ever made and since i did not know you i can only say but a few words too bad they won t hear your song that i ve been singing all alone