| She could hear them fucking through |
| Those thin hotel walls |
| She heard babies crying |
| She heard laughter, she heard sirens |
| Red and blue lights flashing |
| Through those cheap hotel drapes |
| Blood spilled out on the porcelain |
| The bath tub’s over-flowing |
| Paralytic states of dependency |
| All waking life’s just a living dream |
| Agitated states of amazement |
| Never quite the woman that she wanted to be |
| Never quite the woman that she wanted to be |
| Spread out faced down on those |
| Stained cheap hotel sheets |
| She spent the last years of her life |
| Running from the boy she used to be |
| Cut her face wide open |
| Shaved the bone down thin |
| Plumped her lips up exaggerated |
| A fucked up kind of feminine |
| Paralytic states of dependency |
| All waking life’s just a living dream |
| Agitated states of amazement |
| Never quite the woman that she wanted to be |
| Never quite the woman that she wanted to be |
| Night time at the hotel there was fighting in the hall |
| Thin chain lock to keep the world out |
| She held her breath till it was gone |
| Standing naked in front of that hotel bathroom mirror |
| In her dysphoria’s reflection |
| She still saw her mother’s son |
| Paralytic states of dependency |
| All waking life’s just a living dream |
| Agitated states of amazement |
| Never quite the woman that she wanted to be |
| Never quite the woman that she wanted to be |
| By the time the ball dropped it was already over |
| By the time the ball dropped it was already over |
| No resolutions for the new year beginning tomorrow |