Blame it on a book of matches that sparks a burning flame,
blame it on the smoke that heals the wounds
or so it seems.
We can't help living and we can't stop ending up this way.
She's sorry that she let him go,
he's sorry that he came.

And she cries over the boy lying on the floor
her heart's been owned and let go
but she can't take it back,
she won't take it back.
How is she supposed to say goodbye?
Hopelessness hates to see her cry
but there's no place to move onto,
there's no one to hold onto.
Someone save the wilting rose.

The hearts pour out in solitude,
the tears pour out in vein.
She's forgotten how to breathe, she's done;
that boy her heart is holding...
Two hearts stopped that day, not one.
Living has never been so tough
as she whispers "goodbye," she's had enough.

No one saves the tears that seem to hate the room.
No one tries to halt the never-ending doom.
The house just feels so empty; she's never felt like this before.
Here's to you and the night your world ended too.

So goodnight, good luck.
Can she make it on her own?
So goodnight, my mind is with you.
Who knows how long she'll spend alone?
Someone save the wilting rose.