I watched you in your tragic beuaty walk beneth my window. Eyes aimed high, but unfocused. .. sure, you never noticed me. You always wore the same dress; always bore the same expression: It's a loveless world so what's the point of looking? Let it be... I considered throwing roses -- thought I'd maybe wave a flag. Had to try and force some small connection-- But, there's a snag. It's my confession that I watch you in my tragic isolation. In my fear... that's the way it's been for years. That's the way it will always be . .