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You're the night, Lilah, a little girl lost in the woods |
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You're a folk tale, the unexplainable |
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You're a bedtime story, the one that keeps the curtains closed |
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And I hope you're waiting for me, 'cause I can make it on my own |
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I can make it on my own |
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It's too dark to see the landmarks, I don't want your good luck charms |
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I hope you're waiting for me across your carpet of stars |
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You're the night, Lilah, you're everything that we can see |
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Lilah, you're the possibility |
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You're the bedtime story, the one that keeps the curtains closed |
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And I hope you're waiting for me, 'cause I can make it on my own |
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I can make it on my own |
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Unknown the unlit world of old, you're the sounds I never heard before |
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Off the map where the wild things grow, another world outside my door |
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Here I stand I'm all alone, drive me down the pitch black road |
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Lilah, you're my only home and I can't make it on my own |
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You're the bedtime story, the one that keeps the curtains closed |
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And I hope you're waiting for me, 'cause I can make it on my own |
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I can make it on my own |
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You're the paint can falling off the wall at the door that slams |
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At the end of the hall where the kid rings sounds of basketball |
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The battle of the earth of the angels, the shifting snow drifts so realistic |
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So realistic, call you carpet of stars, see there is something in the yard |
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It's awful dark with the painted strings, the cross, the good luck charm |
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The prayer, the extra layer, the group [Incomprehensible] |
