|
All eyes on her, center of all attention |
|
All I can do is try to make a conversation |
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She shines, shines so bright |
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All framed in quilted silver, her lies seem so fine |
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I'm just making conversation with myself |
|
And who is that girl living in my house |
|
She looks like me but she talks like someone else |
|
Her eyes look a lot like mine |
|
When she smiles right back from the other side |
|
(That girl) |
|
She moves with confidence, not afraid of every consequence |
|
Her eyes look a lot like mine |
|
When she smiles right back from the other side |
|
(That girl) |
|
Right back from the other side |
|
She's wild and dimmed |
|
She knows important people |
|
Can always turn a smile |
|
Without a hesitation, she's someone else |
|
But who is that girl living in my house |
|
She looks like me but she talks like someone else |
|
Her eyes look a lot like mine |
|
When she smiles right back from the other side |
|
(That girl) |
|
She moves with confidence, not afraid of every consequence |
|
Her eyes look a lot like mine |
|
When she smiles right back from the other side |
|
(That girl) |
|
Right back from the other side |
|
That girl |
