(1)She took her things and left,
Without a word, without a trace.
No one knew where she headed,
No one knew but me.

(2)Red was her favorite color,
Like the apples that grew in her yard.
When she left, she took a piece of me,
Like an apple being bitten and thrown away.

(3) There she stood, in the center,
Roses thrown at her feet as she waved,
Blowing kisses to her beloved fans.
Thousands clapped and cheered.

(4)She danced gracefully and professionally.
Swan Lake was her favorite.
It was all she ever spoke about.
It was all she ever wanted.

(5)And now her dreams had come true.
All except mine.
She left me behind like sand paper,
Crumbled and ripped against the dusty wind.

(6)Abandoned and forgotten, a person may say.
There, over the mountains, my happiness lay.