She's washing dishes
and she's staring out the window
facing the backyard
She's sick of wondering
what everything's about
she's sick of
trying so hard
She drinks another cup of coffee
and she smokes another cigarette
and she thinks of all the people in her life
who she'd rather never have met
But this brave new language inspires
painful miscommunication
trying to find the words to explain
this sticky situation
She's standing silently in open contemplation
in the pouring rain
she's noticing that the quiet complications
have barely caused her life to change
she stands alone beneath the halogen spotlights
that line her street
and she's pissed as hell with herself
for breaking the promise
that the two of you would never meet
But this brave new language inspires
painful miscommunication
trying to find the words to explain
this sticky situation
You guide yourself carefully
through the multilayered struggle
of controlling your rage
and this decision would be so much easier
if you didn't have to act your age
you watch her closely
as her fears become frustrations
and you still can't find the words to say
and you don't realize she's trying to explain
that you are just another game she'll play
And this brave new language inspires
painful miscommunication
trying to find the words to explain
this sticky situation
sticky situation...
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