She was my kind of hopeless
Eyes tired...
No, eyes exhausted
Far past the help of coffee
Exhausted from a world bitter and cold
Exhausted from the place she's forced to call home
I don't think her hair had seen a brush in a while
It was professionally done by a pillow
A pillow with years of experience
Still, when she looked my way, I couldn't help but look away
Wish I didn't
Cause she was my kind of hopeless.