| A pretty picture of your older sister that I will hide beneath my bed but,
|
| Your broken mother, about the cover, you don’t show your face around these
|
| parts no more.
|
| Was it really worth it all, to give up laughter in the hall?
|
| And did you cut your ribbon bows, for the man, for the man who seems to know?
|
| You let him use you, you let him cut you down. |
| Until your soul was darker than
|
| the well.
|
| But I still love you. |
| I still have your picture by my bed, and it greets me every morning.
|
| Was it really worth it all, to give up laughter in the hall?
|
| And did you cut your ribbon bows, for the man, for the man who seems to know?
|
| Did he promise did he say, that you’d be home again some day?
|
| Cuz while the sun it finally sets. |
| We’ll find you drowning.
|
| You don’t say, but those words hurt anyways. |
| To California to get your career
|
| well on its way.
|
| You’ll burn out bright love, but do you know which part to give away?
|
| Of the star, of the star, that you have sold for fame? |