If I showed you my teardrops,
would you collect them like rain,
store them in jars,
that are labelled with "pain",
would you follow their tracks,
from my eyes down my cheeks,
as they write all the stories,
I'm too scared to speak,
would you stop them with kisses,
and bring their flow to a halt,
as you teach me that pain,
isn't always my fault,
would you hold my face gently,
as you dry both my eyes,
and whisper the words,
"You're too precious to cry."
If I showed you my teardrops,
would you show me your own,
and learn though we're lonely,
we're never alone.
