SHE BLACKS HER EYES FOR THE ATTENTION   AND SHE LIVES TO FAKE THE BRUISE   BECAUSE IN A FERTILE CONVERSATION   SHE'S THE SWEETNESS ON YOUR TONGUE WITHOUT EXCUSE      AND THE SUN NEVER SHINES   ON THE SAD FACE OF THE THIN   WHO NEVER LIFT THEIR HEADS UP   FROM THE DEPTHS OF WHERE THEY HAVE BEEN      AND SHE'S WAITING   SHE'S WAITING   MONDAY'S ALWAYS RED   BURNING COLORS IN HER HEAD   SHE'S WAITING   SHE'S WAITING   FOR THE SUNDAY GREY   IN A WHISPER SHE WOULD SAY   "PLEASE DON'T GO AWAY"      IN THE HOURS OF DESPERATION   THE HANDS CARESS WITHOUT A NAME   WITH MOVIE LINES HER MOTIVATION   TO GET CLOSER TO HEAVEN ONCE AGAIN      AND THE SUN NEVER SHINES   ON THE SAD FACE OF THE THIN   WHO NEVER LIFT THEIR HEADS UP   FROM THE DEPTHS OF WHERE THEY HAVE BEEN      AND SHE'S WAITING   SHE'S WAITING   MONDAY'S ALWAYS RED   BURNING COLORS IN HER HEAD   SHE'S WAITING   SHE'S WAITING   FOR THE SUNDAY GREY   IN A WHISPER SHE WOULD SAY   "PLEASE DON'T GO AWAY"      SHE'S WAITING   SHE'S WAITING   MONDAY'S ALWAYS RED   BURNING COLORS IN HER HEAD   SHE'S WAITING   SHE'S WAITING   FOR THE SUNDAY GREY   TO NEVER GO AWAY