Monica's light's become a falling star
And so it follows, you're nothing to her
She just forgets that you are
You're growing fainter
Monica's light has returned
To the source of its nature
You're emotionally divorced
From what you think of her
And what she's after
I know
But I won't tell her so
I know
But I won't tell a soul
What I know
Monica's light
Was given away to a stranger
It was abstract it was insignificant
So Monica's light returned
To the source of its nature
She's got sixty separate movements
For each hour
I know
But I won't tell her so
I know
But I won't tell a soul
What I know

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