She wraps her letters up with finger nails,
And reads them only to herself,
She hangs her walls with bits of cellophane,
What a perfect day,
And as she sleeps beneath her sheets,
Made up like canopies against the wind,
She holds her plastic boxes through the night,
Never see the light,
These are the things that I know,
She creeps outside to watch the trains go by,
And rides her bike out in the rain,
I saw her once and thought that she might smile,
So I'll wait a while,
These are the things that I know,
The winter came and pa**ed away,
She tried to speak but nothing came out right,
And then she sent her letters far away,
They arrived today,
These are the things that I know,
These are the things that I know,
These are the things that I know,
But these things are mine to hide,
In a place that I'll,
Never find...