How was I so blind to miss you crumbling inside. Is it too late now to fix you. Let me make it right. 'Cause there'll be no sun on Sunday. No reason for words to rhyme.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1. She's another victim of life, we've come to know,. Technology, celebrity, all the things you cannot hold. She's from a long lost tribe looking for the light.