She's got that look on her face again
The one she gets when she's lost in her head
By the window with a guitar on her knee
Randomly, she says, sometimes I'm the rain
And sometimes, I'm the wind
And that's the way it's always gonna be

She only paints when she's alone
She only sings when she gets high
Or it feels like drawing stickmen for Monet
She's up half the night when she gets like this
Picking words or picking colors
But she never slept much anyway

Doesn't see sense in faking it
Waste of time she says
Then mutters about houses and stones
When she's out she talks to everyone
She's everybody's friend
But still hasn't learned to be her own

Don't have a chorus yet that doesn't sound silly or trite.