Lillian lies to avoid awkward questions. Looks to the sky for intervention, but she cant avoid judgmental compassion in the void.
Puts on a face, she makes it a brave one, gets herself a seat on a interstate greyhound.
When everything's gone at least you got nothing - that holds on.
Curls herself up, rests her head on the window. Sees her face in the trees suspended in limbo.
When everythings gone at least you got nothing - that holds on.
You're a stranger in a country town, the kids all stare, the cars slow down.
You didn't think you'd be so dumb to just grab hold of whatever came along.
Houses slip by, the clouds are solo.
The sky doesn't cover
it swallows
(us)
