This was not written about anyone in particular. I was inspired by the story in the middle of the CD booklet in the White Stripes' 'Elephant'.

SWEETHEART

Sweetheart trips and falls to the ground

She clutches her ankle and rubs it

And I'm not there to kiss it better

Sweetheart raises up her hands to the people

To find someone in my shoes

And a briefcase connects her head

Sweetheart disappears into unconsciousness

No voices saying to move away

And she fades at the people's feet

Sweetheart is mourning her oblivion

Turning into a blood red puddle

And somewhere somebody screams

Sweetheart is jolted as the driver drives

She tries to think of where she's going

And wonders if it's worth the trouble

Sweetheart attracts much attention

Attention she doesn't really want

And no-one's asked for her choices

Sweetheart goes back to pavement

Back to the cheap and disgusting world

And I'm not there to kiss it better