While I'm waiting at the bus stop,
Listening to tunes,
I can't help but see her,
Crying, looking blue.

I keep to myself,
Don't want to intrude,
But inside its all a guessing game,
As to what to do.

In my mind,
Scenes play out like a film.
There's a girl and a guy,
Happily in love
Until one day she tells a lie,
And he gives her a shove.

Or maybe she's just down on her luck,
Unhappy.
Lightning surely struck.

And while I play the guessing game,
I don't see the signs.
A crash brings me back to frame,
To saddening yellow lines.

I see her there, entirely bled;
Victim to a premature bed.
With eyes wide open she takes my hand,
And her hourglass has now run out of sand.

I blame myself,
Hate myself,
For not asking her what's wrong.
I blame myself,
Hate myself,
For standing their, silent, forever long.
I blame myself,
Hate myself,
For knowing the ending to this song.