The Music Box

A little music box, free of scorn,
sits by itself, alone and worn.
So many times the little dancer,
tried to give you an honest answer.
But you never really cared.

Slowly twirling, playing a song,
She never told you how it felt so wrong.
Her hair was flawless, eyes clear and blue,
the feelings behind them were so untrue.
But you never really cared.

You forced her to dance, you forced her to try,
now all she wants is to break down and cry.
No more dancing or trying to please.
She's too far gone now to do it with ease.
But you never really cared.

Broken, cracked, without a soul,
Forgotten she sits, with no bells to toll.
The music is gone, the dance is too,
But tell me, does it even matter to you?