Was the the train Was she your drag? Was she the little of mind you thought you once had? Was she the cure-all, or the disease? Was she the ransack, or the denim jeans?
Maybe the money the bad nights Maybe the deep wound left behind a bite Maybe the hung inside a toilet seat Maybe the searching for someone to bleed
Hey, it's she wants to be Hey, that's she's gonna be Out there the night Guess I'm the only boy she bite
Was she the wedding drenched all in gasoline? Was she the new-age Jezebel dog Was she the warhead, or the Was she death itself, or comes after?
a suckerpunch Maybe the thread the gray teeth pulling on a cigarette Maybe the Maybe the Maybe a teller with no-one there to read
And she waits, and she herself too well She stares at her hands, but can't tell When good comes around She up all her cards and jumps town
Was she the trophy Was she the Was she the spell in life that you've been under? Was she the broken string, or the symphony? the upright, perfectly out-of-key
Maybe a tar pick filled up with bone Maybe the footsteps you hear when home alone Maybe the prize bird losing its Maybe the glue that just won't hold your shit
Was she the blood that means disaster? Maybe she's nothing close to what you think after all at once, man, you wake and come to You exactly what it is that she was to you