if the world gets any smaller
never see the inner parting sweet sorrow
if the pulse gets any fainter
like being in pictures
when worlds collide
in the shape of
a weeping willow tree
in the shape of
your spirit leaving me
if the sound gets any paler
the party is over, another false start
if the rise gets any steeper
hang out in the air and
shout me your grief
in the shape of
a weeping willow tree
in the shape of
your spirit leaving me
to make this a logical end
to every screenplay that
you've ever read
and cast your defeat
in a typical light
i'm not leaving you tonight
