Miss, what is wrong?
Why is it that you compose such a soft, sorrowful song?

Gazing vacantly with hazy, sapphire eyes,
playing a mournful symphony of cries.
Are you fearful of murmuring forgotten lies?

Miss, what is wrong?
Why is it that you strum such a blue, befuddled song?

Emitting unpredictable moods in the suffocating air,
lashing out in anger before your face contorts in despair.
Is your instrument beyond the point of repair?

Miss, what is wrong?
Why is it that you hum such a long, lost song?

Attempting to rewrite music previously wrote.
You lose yourself in melody, struggling to stay afloat.
Are you afraid of misplaying the same note?

Mothe,r what is wrong?
Why is it that you compose such a soft, sorrowful song?