Without desire to sleep anymore,
She marches back and forth over the floor.
An empty glass is clutched in her hand;
She has become her own army.

The piano in the room downstairs
Has remained soundless for years.
There are only secrets remaining here;
She has become her own army.

It’s all just nonsense, she decides,
In this ghost town where she resides
Because she’s too afraid to look outside;
She’s nothing but her own army.