@migu music@

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 got 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

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

This will be the last time

(This will be)

She hides her eyes behind her hair

This will be the last time

(This will be)

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

There's one last chance to say goodbye