She cooks you sweet potato you don't like aubergine
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She knows to boil the kettle when you hum bars from grease
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She senses you are lonely but still she can't be sure
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And so she stands and waits, stands anticipating
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How can she become the psychic that she longs to be to understand you
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How can she become the psychic that she longs to be to understand you
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He brushes thoroughly
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He know she likes fresh breath
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He rushes to the station
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He waits atop the steps
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He's brought with him a mars bar
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She will not buy nestle
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And later he'll perform
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A love-lorn serenade, a trade
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How can he become the psychic that he longs to be to understand you
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How can he become the psychic that he longs to be to understand you
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So give her information to help her fill the holes
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Give an ounce of power so he does not feel controlled
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Help her to acknowledge the pain that you are in
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Give to him a glimpse of that beneath your skin
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Now my inner dialogue is heaving with detest
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I am a martyr and a victim and I need to be caressed
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I hate that you negate me, I'm a ghost at beck and call
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I'm falling and placating, and berating myself for staying
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I'm a fool
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I'm a fool
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He greets his stranger meekly a thing that she accepts
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She sees him waiting often with chocolate on the steps
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He senses she is lonely she's glad they finally met
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They take each other's hands walk into the sunset
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Do you like sweet potato?
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-----------------
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Sweet Potato
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| Sia |
