She walks with a silent song
I wonder if she knows
That I wouldn't want it any other way
Sweeping up the mundane
There's a different sense of contentment
In the beauty of regular days
She's testing for thyroid lumps
There's too much caffeine in her cup
In the back of her mind, thinks she ran out of time
It's too late for goodbyes
Wrinkled smiles, asking how many miles to see her son's face
Hate's getting old
Hate's getting old
There's got to be another life
Got to be another life
Got to be another life