Trish sat by the stairs, waiting patiently
To get away from this dead end town
She knew the body given to her
Wasn't hers to claim anyway
There's nothing here that you'll miss
Trish had tried to sleep, waiting patiently
To be someone, someone that isn't her
She wrote bad songs for nobody else
To hear, she knew they were no good
Waiting to be a star stuck in a cloud of smoke
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