Suzanne Vega



There's a sound

Across the alley

Of cold metal

Touching skin



And you can see

If you look in her window

That she has gone and cut

Her hair again



In straight lines

Straight lines



Those soft golden lights in the morning

Are now on her wooden floor

The wind has swept them through the apartment

She don't need them

Any more

Any more

Any more...



She's cut down

On her lovers

Though she still dreams

Of them at night



She's growing straight lines

Where once were flowers

She is streamlined

She is taking the shade down

From the light



To see the straight lines

Straight lines



She wants to cut through the circles

That she has lived in before

She wants to finally kill the delusions

She won't need them

Any more

Any more

Any more...



But there's a sound

Across the alley

Of cold metal

Too close to the bone



And you can see

If you look in her window

The face of a woman

Finally alone



Be

Straight lines