She's trying to find the pieces  To put it back together  Chained to late nights  A-huh, take aways, and caffiene  In a pokey little room there  She's sitting with a vacant stare  Cigarette butts lie everywhere  Its a wet October nightmare  Ah, she's locked up her heart  Locked up her mind, locked up her soul  And left the key behind  Say that you won't but you do  Like a moth to a flame, yeah  Make up your mind  Give it some time  You might wake up and find  I'm not the waiting kind  Say that you won't, but you do   And somewhere in the dense smoke   The fragments fly, her eyes are wet   But her throat is dry, and her backlit head   Heaves a heavy sigh udner the lamplight  We share the same secret  Like a private sun, sunset  Sad and beautiful, but yet  Fading like the twilight  And through the rhododendrons  Like a portrait painter over  She watches and she waits, a-hah  Waiting by the lamplight  Ah, she likes to be loved  Loves to be liked, but she doesn't care  Just as long as somebody is there  Say that she won't but she do  Like a moth to a flame yeah  Make up your mind, give it some time  You might wake up and find  I'm not the waiting kind  Say that you won't, but you do   Staccato of her knuckles on the table top.   It's a syncopated rhythym to the clock's tick-tock   She looks a stunned mullet in a state of shock   Under the lamplight   Under the lamplight  [x3]