Tekster: Janes Addiction. Ritual De Lo Habitual. Then She Did.

Now her paints are dry
And I looked outside
At the corner boys
Hey, oh, where'd you go?
I don't know

I went to see your pictures
I spread them across the floor
So this is where they are shown
They're probably saying to you
"If you keep it up you'll be born"
But you will never listen
I'll bet

Burnt out grass
Scorched by the sun
The buildings remain
We will beat them all to dust
I'll bet

Pulled from a headless shell
That blinked on and off hotel
Now the nameless dwell
They hold your key and turn your knob
I'll bet

Would you say hello to my mom?
Would you pay a visit to her?
She was an artist just as you were
Would've introduced you to her

She would take me out on Sundays
We'd go laughing through the garbage
She'd repaired legs like a doctor
On the kitchen chairs we sat on

She was a unhappy just as you were
Unhappy just as you were
Unhappy just as you were
Unhappy just as you were