She's a girl but she's not a fool
inside she knows that paradise is just a dream
a thousand questions go unheard
only the blue bird whistling
on the windowsill
echo in resonance to her solitude.

The light of her soul slowly fading
the bright of her eyes are dim
she wonders if the light at the end is her freedom
or the headlights of an incoming train

The wind blows
the kettle sizzles
the phone rings
but all she does is replay the words
repeatedly
spoken by the one she loved so dearly
that very same day

of how he never felt the same way.