If only you knew how many of these tears I cried for you
while I am laying here in this empty bed.
The pillows don't keep warm like you do,
and fighting for the blankets isn't possible when alone.
If only you knew how many of these tear I cried for you
as you have gone to somewhere else.
My eyes grow tired of sadness,
and my body aches from melancholy convulsions.
If only you knew how many of these tears I cried for you
while I cry myself to sleep each night.
The bed is forlorn and grows cold,
and is merciless toward my endless pain.
If only you knew how many of these tears I cried for you,
maybe you'd come back to the room,
and maybe you'd show that you care.
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