Petals cover the ground along with my tears.
Betrayal still covers my heart.
Does he love me or does he love her?
The question racks around my head,
But why is another war to fight.

A game to determine his heart, but is he even listening?
This is a love that could fall down like rain.
The betraying image is still burned in my brain.
So, I pick up another flower and scream into the night.
He loves me, he loves me not.

These flowers determine nothing to me.
I believe in this love, but is it really enough?
I know the answer, but I'm not willing to give up.
I pluck another petal and let fall to the ground.
He loves me not.