A pretty picture of your older sister that I will hide beneath my bed but,
Your broken mother, about the cover, you don't show your face around these parts no more.
Was it really worth it all, to give up laughter in the hall?
And did you cut your ribbon bows, for the man, for the man who seems to know?
You let him use you, you let him cut you down. Until your soul was darker than the well.
But I still love you. I still have your picture by my bed, and it greets me every morning.
Was it really worth it all, to give up laughter in the hall?
And did you cut your ribbon bows, for the man, for the man who seems to know?
Did he promise did he say, that you'd be home again some day?
Cuz while the sun it finally sets. We'll find you drowning.
You don't say, but those words hurt anyways. To California to get your career well on its way.
You'll burn out bright love, but do you know which part to give away?
Of the star, of the star, that you have sold for fame?
