In the back of the house In the room I used to sleep I woke up and smelled burning wires For a month I wasn't me A thief would wait for me outside And there were nights I would let him in No one ever found out I always wondered Frances where you lived Standing proudly in the tub I never saw you in your clothes In the back of the house In the room right next to mine The only place she let you smoke There you spent most of your time Painting pictures of smog