An alder tree can't become an oak at will. A maple can't pick up its roots like legs, and stride, step by powerful step, along the shore to find the sun. And everything that ever said otherwise-all those years of school, and the plays and moving pictures that promise you can be someone else, something more-they were all lies.
All we shared was a mattress, and a lie, and an address
Baby I don't need you, well baby I don't need you
Once occupied by a goddess, now it's a room full of boxes
She said, "it's time to leave you" but baby I don't need you!
In a perfect world... her face would not exist
In a perfect world... a broken heart is fixed