She probably still keeps herself inside herself
|
Her head it ruled her heart with a tune I'll never hear
|
Summer, like self-portraits we were hit or miss
|
|
Never the same hues twice
|
The second layer's applied before the first one's were even rendered
|
|
I guess her wall's still high and wide
|
With the writing on the inside
|
Its meaning's reapplied to who's in fashion
|
|
CHORUS
|
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Time's a perfect crime for a mystery girl
|
The veil distorts the rhyme for a mystery girl
|
|
Somewhere tonight a lonely shadow's painting in the rain
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And most of what is captured will be in vain
|
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You try to keep away the dogs of memory
|
The hungry and the restless ones just come at different angles
|
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A cigarette at midnight in a slow, dark room
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And they're scratchin' at your door
|
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The corner of your mind you pared to eloquence now rambles
|
And the rain sounds like a freight train
|
Don't it always come the same
|
|
When your hunger meets the pain of her resilience
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
I guess her wall's still high and wide
|
With the writing on the inside
|
Its meaning's reapplied to who's in fashion
|
|
CHORUS
|
|
-----------------
|
Mystery Girl
|
| The Badlees |
