Anybody will help her see further,
than the balcony where her head is spinning
Breathing the air of a hometown she's already started hating
She's already starting, starting, starting.
But you know what to do, when your hands are on her
Falling off your high horses,
Taking off your layers
Like you clean your messes
Walking by the shore, but stranger you've never been to these places.

Because you failed her, over and over,
over
But the honest trust is that does not matter,
matter much, much to her