She's trying to find the pieces

To put it back together

Chained to late nights

A-huh, take aways, and caffiene



In a pokey little room there

She's sitting with a vacant stare

Cigarette butts lie everywhere

Its a wet October nightmare



Ah, she's locked up her heart

Locked up her mind, locked up her soul

And left the key behind

Say that you won't but you do

Like a moth to a flame, yeah

Make up your mind

Give it some time

You might wake up and find

I'm not the waiting kind

Say that you won't, but you do



And somewhere in the dense smoke

The fragments fly, her eyes are wet

But her throat is dry, and her backlit head

Heaves a heavy sigh udner the lamplight



We share the same secret

Like a private sun, sunset

Sad and beautiful, but yet

Fading like the twilight



And through the rhododendrons

Like a portrait painter over

She watches and she waits, a-hah

Waiting by the lamplight



Ah, she likes to be loved

Loves to be liked, but she doesn't care

Just as long as somebody is there

Say that she won't but she do

Like a moth to a flame yeah

Make up your mind, give it some time

You might wake up and find

I'm not the waiting kind

Say that you won't, but you do



Staccato of her knuckles on the table top.

It's a syncopated rhythym to the clock's tick-tock

She looks a stunned mullet in a state of shock

Under the lamplight



Under the lamplight [x3]