She has a window seat
She'll take the early bus back home
She wants a quiet life up north
She is tired of being alone
When she comes around, I hope she'll pick the wrong door,
Enter my room, and stay a little more
She is tired of work in bars
The city has nothing to offer anymore
She's settled in a window seat
She'll take the early bus back home
And when she comes around I hope she'll pick the wrong door,
Enter my room, and stay a little more
She misses our mornings and the nights are so long
Wants to jump from the highest mountain
Nothing seems to work out anymore
She hopes not to wake up
And when she comes around I hope she'll pick the wrong door,
Enter my room, and stay a little more.

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