How much must I cry...
Before my eyes run dry?
I do not know,
For they’re not yet. Oh, woe!
How much must I cry...
As I listen in class try?
I do not know.
Oh me, she is my woe.
You break my heart,
You tear us apart,
Limb from limb,
And hand and foot.
I am torn between
A girl, a princess, and a queen.
What do I now do?
Why does the owl chirp, “Who?”
How much must I cry...
Many times I have cried;
They’re not yet dry,
but our relationship, it has...died.
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