Every Burden Has a Version

She’d rather repair her face with the lights turned off.
The door wide open in an empty house.
The frozen minutes are melting slow
as she watches from the window.
The street light’s flickering like a tongue that can’t stop licking.
Like the cat that caught the cream,
she’s never gonna be.
She’s never gonna be quite satisfied.
Just like a hundred dollar bill
folded up and tearing at the crease.
There’s not much left inside your chest,
but it’s worth much more than what you see.
Every burden has a version in somebody else.
She smokes her smokes outside to avoid the fight.
She’d rather be enjoying the silent stillness of the suburbs.
After midnight, what’s the point.
Don’t try to hide, don’t justify a thing.
She’s so naive to think she’d be capable.
Like the cat that got the cream,
she’s never gonna be quite satisfied.
Just like a hundred dollar bill
folded up and tearing at the crease.
There’s not much left inside your chest,
but it’s worth much more than what you see.
Just like a hundred dollar bill
folded up and tearing at the crease.
There’s not much left inside your chest,
but it’s worth much more than what you see.
And this will be the last time she hides her eyes behind her hair.
And this will be the last time, this will be the last time.
And this will be the last time she hides her eyes behind her hair.
And this will be the last time, this will be the last time.
Just like a hundred dollar bill
folded up and tearing at the crease.
There’s not much left inside your chest,
but it’s worth much more than what you see.
Just like a hundred dollar bill
folded up and tearing at the crease.
There’s not much left inside your chest,
but it’s worth much more than what you see.
And this will be the last time she hides her eyes behind her hair.
And this will be the last time, this will be the last time.
And this will be the last time she hides her eyes behind her hair.
And this will be the last time, this one last chance to say goodbye.