She's pulling out the pin
|
That lets her hair fall down
|
She's pulling out the pin
|
She shakes her head
|
And it goes tumbling
|
|
Her smile was out of place
|
So she swept it off her face
|
|
Let me find the words and say them
|
Like some softly whispered "Amen"
|
|
But she starts to pull away
|
And the lights begin to dim
|
Is she thinking of me?
|
Or is she thinking of him?
|
She's pulling out the pin¡¦
|
|
She's slipping off the hook
|
Unbuttoning her dress
|
She's slipping off the hook
|
There's just enough to make some man a mess
|
She tears away the veil
|
With her fingernails
|
|
She came out high and kicking
|
While the band played "Hey, Good Looking"
|
Do you hear something ticking?
|
|
Did somebody tell her she could really be redeemed?
|
And could she actually be as desperate as she seems?
|
She's tearing at the seams
|
She's going to extremes
|
Nobody told her it was a sin
|
So she's pulling out the pin
|
|
She's taping up her hands just like a boxer will
|
And they started laughing
|
But if looks could kill
|
She'd take them down right now
|
She's covering her mouth
|
With some unholy vow
|
There's nothing more to say
|
This is her wedding day
|
|
Full of shattered glass and mayhem
|
Not some softly whispered "Amen"
|
|
While the shock announcement dawns
|
And the smoke begins to thin
|
Where the world without ends
|
And the next one begins
|
She's pulling out the pin
|
|
She's pulling out the pin
|
She's pulling out the pin
|
She's pulling out the pin
|
|
-----------------
|
(She Might Be A) Grenade
|
Elvis Costello |