She kicked the habit and kicked him out
Sold her tiara and entered a cloud
Turned the screws and wandered off
Hit the chasm and drifted across
She bought a few acres and built a home
Cut off connections and buried her phone
Disappearing into the neighboring hills
Acquired timber and carpentry skills
She churned butter and made red wine
Drank in the morning, it didn't matter the time
Cut off her hair and sold her soul
Stockpiled reveries until her mind was full
And it always made sense through the right lens
The red flags were always waving in the breeze
There's a fine line between waking and sleep
She searched the attic and found some bones
Put 'em together to form her clone
A pleasant surprise they could converse
Speaking in rhymes or an old Roman curse
She found a cat and named it Jezebel
It climbed the walls and drank from the well
Scanned the horizon and chased the blues
Dug holes in the bed looking for clues
She envisioned angels helping with chores
Building new portals and golden doors
Scrubbing the ceiling, summoning rain
Adding fuel to the spreading flames
And it always made sense through the right lens
The red flags were always waving in the breeze
There's a fine line between waking and sleep
She counted sheep climbing the sky
Battling helicopters and dragonflies
Waiting in her room for the years to pass
Scratching stars into the stained glass
Scratching stars into the stained glass
Scratching stars into the stained glass