She'd rather repair her facenWith the lights turned offnThe door wide open in an empty housenThe frozen minutes are melting slownAs she watches from the windownnThe street light's flickeringnLike a tongue that can't stop lickingnLike the cat that got the creamnShe's never gonna benShe's never gonna be quite satisfiednnJust like a hundred dollar billnFolded up and tearing at the creasenThere's not much left inside your chestnBut it's worth much more than what you seenEvery burden has a version in somebody elsennShe smokes her smokes outside to avoid the fightnShe'd rather be enjoying the silent stillnessnOf the suburbs after midnightnWhat's the point?nDon't try to hidenDon't justify a thingnnShe's so naive to think she'd be capablenLike the cat that got the creamnShe's never gonna benShe's never gonna be quite satisfiednnJust like a hundred dollar billnFolded up and tearing at the creasenThere's not much left inside your chestnBut it's worth much more than what you see (x2)nnThis will be the last timen(This will be)nShe hides her eyes behind her hairnThis will be the last timen(This will be)nThis will be the last timennJust like a hundred dollar billnFolded up and tearing at the creasenThere's not much left inside your chestnBut it's worth much more than what you see (x2)nnThis will be the last timen(This will be)nShe hides her eyes behind her hairnThis will be the last timen(This will be)nThis will be the last timenThis will be the last timen(This will be)nShe hides her eyes behind her hairnThis will be the last timen(This will be)nThere's one last chance to say goodbye