She is a sweeper She swept everything Under the brown fuzzy rug In her living room.
Old magazines books newspapers Old photographs records love letters.
She swept them all Under the brown fuzzy rug In her living room.
One day It turned into a hill. All the things she swept under the brown fuzzy rug in her living room turned into a hill.
But she didn't mind. She kept sweeping old friendships romantic relationships truth lies feelings regrets mistakes apologies forgiveness into the hill under the brown fuzzy rug in her living room.
The next day The hill turned into a mountain She didn't mind And kept sweeping Until it exploded
Broken hardwood floor Burnt brown fuzzy rug Everything scattered In her living room.
She stood there In the middle of the aftermath Thinking “Do i throw these all away?"
But she's a sweeper. So she cleaned the mess Swept everything back again Under a new brown fuzzy rug Laying on her basement floor.