and here is mine:

I'm stuck in a vicious cycle,

she loves me -- she loves me not.

Flowers bloom on my deathbed

for me to pick petals off of

and mourn the loss of a friend.

Dearest, you're here, I know,

but you won't be for long.

I'll drive you away, I know,

and you'll still sing that song,

cause pretty girls make their own graves,

and I'm your little charmer.