SHE BLACKS HER EYES FOR THE ATTENTION
AND SHE LIVES TO FAKE THE BRUISE
BECAUSE IN A FERTILE CONVERSATION
SHE'S THE SWEETNESS ON YOUR TONGUE WITHOUT EXCUSE

AND THE SUN NEVER SHINES
ON THE SAD FACE OF THE THIN
WHO NEVER LIFT THEIR HEADS UP
FROM THE DEPTHS OF WHERE THEY HAVE BEEN

AND SHE'S WAITING
SHE'S WAITING
MONDAY'S ALWAYS RED
BURNING COLORS IN HER HEAD
SHE'S WAITING
SHE'S WAITING
FOR THE SUNDAY GREY
IN A WHISPER SHE WOULD SAY
"PLEASE DON'T GO AWAY"

IN THE HOURS OF DESPERATION
THE HANDS CARESS WITHOUT A NAME
WITH MOVIE LINES HER MOTIVATION
TO GET CLOSER TO HEAVEN ONCE AGAIN

AND THE SUN NEVER SHINES
ON THE SAD FACE OF THE THIN
WHO NEVER LIFT THEIR HEADS UP
FROM THE DEPTHS OF WHERE THEY HAVE BEEN

AND SHE'S WAITING
SHE'S WAITING
MONDAY'S ALWAYS RED
BURNING COLORS IN HER HEAD
SHE'S WAITING
SHE'S WAITING
FOR THE SUNDAY GREY
IN A WHISPER SHE WOULD SAY
"PLEASE DON'T GO AWAY"

SHE'S WAITING
SHE'S WAITING
MONDAY'S ALWAYS RED
BURNING COLORS IN HER HEAD
SHE'S WAITING
SHE'S WAITING
FOR THE SUNDAY GREY
TO NEVER GO AWAY