"White Crow"
I like your black feathered pillow,
Just as your black dying willows.
I don't know why I'm so black,
Why can't your love just come back?

Your black cello sits on the floor,
I said hello, you closed the door.
Black stars grace your very black eyes,
Yet I can't see your little white lies.

I despise your black guitars,
I despise the person you are.
Why is it that you're so dark?
Why can't you just have some spark?

I despise your black guitars,
I despise just who you are.
Soon, I say you will fall below,
Soon, I say you won't love the willows,
Nor the cardinals, nor the sparrows,
Soon, you'll feel death from my white crow.