Who's the man over in the corner
with tears pouring down his face?
Who's his "Belle" and why has she
gone without a trace?
Why should he cry when all the pain he caused
still goes unanswered for?
How does he have his fears when all he
does is give us more?
Why, in the hospital, does he weep
for a girl so perfectly safe?
When others around them are hurt and dying
and losing hope and faith?
In beeping monitors and flashing lights
he sits so quiet and still,
A china shard clutched in his hand
and a stare meant to chill.
Why does he mourn a teacup
smashed beyond repair?
Why is it that just this once
he honestly seems to care?
He taps his foot against the floor
and glances anxiously round.
He's scared to move, he's scared to leave,
too scared to make a sound.
Coward, he is, a cowardly beast
filled with horror and hate.
Cowardly, a cowardly beast
who only loved too late.
Maybe he's not so bad after all
Maybe he's just hurt.
Maybe he needs someone to reach out
and pull him from the dirt.
Why does she scream when he goes to her?
Why is she so scared?
What could possibly have hurt her so?
Can she be repaired?