I could fill the oceans with the tears I've cried
Or cover the entire earth with blankets of failed tries.
Countless times what I thought was truth became a lie.
Everything is falling apart, and I'm sick of asking why.
It gets so bad, to the point where I just want to die,
But all of this is nothing compared to the pain of goodbye.
What's the point of believing if you could never fly?
I'm a bird with clipped wings, a well that has run dry,
I'm an undone knot with ends too loose to tie,
But still, nothing compares to the endless pain of goodbye.