Her pretty, young head
Filled with a falcon's dreams
A fresh, clean bed
A baller like she always seemed
And innocence gets thin
Trouble's got its way of sneaking in
A Galaga sky
Sewn with a thousand seams
Supper it cools
But the stillness ceases to be
An ordinary scene...
A habit's got its way of being so keen
Lucius calls
It's the same with Timmy and Steve
An empty bed
Burning it like she pleases
But time has got its way
And the trouble has got its teeth
And they are sinking in