Standard (EADGBE)

There's a girl, asleep in her work clothes

there's the dream of a grave

dusty birds, a loft in a twister

and the money, she'll never have

Cigarette still burns in her fingers

and her TV's alive

there's broken homes, and weight loss, and lawyers

and the money she'll never have

Deliver the stars from the ceiling

 the nights from her head

Deliver the stars from the ceiling

and the money she'll never have

Solo

Lately sleep, it goes like a weekend

full of plans never saved

the sun deflates behind the Sangre de Cristo

and the money she'll never have

Deliver the stars from the ceiling

the nights from her head

Deliver the stars from the ceiling

and the money she'll never have