I know not where dead flowers do bloom
and I can not outrun my galloping gloom
there once was a girl whom I did quite fancy
but I was alone while they were all dancing
I could not dance because I could not ask
and I lay there weeping or maybe just sleeping
if only I knew that she suffered too
sooner or later
twas farther, not nearer
though when we crossed paths everything was much clearer
yet it was too late for this bumbling, stumbling fool