I think I've met her before.
They told me your shades were drawn but the windows  leading to your soul seemed to be taking in fresh air, you see it's hard hiding behind stained glass windows when everyone is just trying to look in, isn't it?
Crawling through your windows, I've been here before. The rooms of your soul smelt of home and felt of comfort.
I've been here before.
Tell me I've been here before..