It's only 6am,
some girl's walking up hills in San Francisco
The wind breathes past the quarter pike above her neck
she had a wish though
she insists
that everyone around that sees her gentle face will turn into stone
never speak
to her or anyone who prays to just be broken like a wishbone,
'cause we are weak.
I think you're gonna be,
Okay you crazy, screwed up laaaaaaaady
I think you're gonna be,
Okay you crazy, screwed up laaaaaaaady
And every step she takes
her tears make her appear like a pretty mime.
No one blinks
The morning glow has kissed the streams upon her face
and now it's half-nine.
an old man winks
She sees him sitting there upon a wooden chair right in the middle
of the road
And this guy looks at her and turns not into stone, but smiles a little
So she shows
him all the bruises and the scars across her body there on purpose
She still stands
Still the old man sits and checks and prays for her,
but she ain't nervous.
Holds her hand
I think you're gonna be,
Okay you crazy, screwed up laaaaaaaady
I think you're gonna be,
Okay you crazy, screwed up laaaaaaaady
I think you're gonna be,
I think you're gonna be,
Okay you crazy, screwed up laaaaaaaady
Hooooooooooooooooooooo
Hooooooooooooooooooooooooooohh
kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay
There's just that little ending