There’s a girl in the street with her hair in her eyes
And she’s throwing her stones at the lights;
She’s stupid and blind and she can’t dodge the flames
Now that she’s set herself in their sights.

She escapes into Hell with a china-doll smile
And wakes screaming as her face is burned;
She can’t see her fathers are turning their backs,
Not when hers has already been turned.

And a wall’s got her back and a wall’s in her face
And they’re bruising her bones when she fights;
See her dragging the apron-strings up to her throat
As she pleads far too late for the lights.

To her left and her right are the bridges she’s burned;
To her front is no future to hate;
At her back, good intentions are scattered with glass;
And above is a locked golden gate.

She can see a way out. It’s been taken before
By the near and the dear and the damned;
But the fall into waste passes first by your door
Where you offer your beautiful hand –

And the girl is now dead. There’s no body to see
But a chrysalis – you showed her wings and she’s free
And the sniveling thing that you caught became me.