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I threw the first stone, I broke the door |
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And someone got stuck inside and fell to the floor |
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And I drove for hours, landlocked and blank |
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Hills all around me with no one to thank |
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Now when I got back here and climbed up my tree |
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And nobody saw me, I watched them so carefully |
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Trapped like mosquitoes sucking blood from your arms |
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Crushed so serenely without an alarm |
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But you still want me back |
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In the room when it was cold and we were locked and broken |
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I count the copies, I kept receipts |
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I kept the blisters on the bottom of my feet |
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Well, I'm your assistant or maybe you're mine |
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But either way you see it, we won't make a dime |
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Because we don't want it easy, we don't like the plot |
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We don't take precaution when we know that we should |
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But if we both just admit it, that we both make mistakes |
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I think we can handle all the change and the headache |
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But you still got me out |
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When you kicked me twice and took the keys and put them in my hands |
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There's always something you're waiting on |
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If you just go now, you can leave |
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You can just go free |
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I fell asleep, accidentally so |
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And I didn't wake up 'til an hour ago |
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So I stood in my window, still half-asleep |
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With a stone in my hand, the criticisms I keep |
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I can't write conclusions, they never make sense |
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'Cause I can't end a story when I'm still on the fence |
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So I threw the last stone and that set me free |
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So I wrote no conclusion and came down from my tree |
