Both of us hurt in our own very ways
A rose in a vase, a girl in denial about herself
A tulip away from the rain
A spinster in the make
A drunk ****** in the nights
Laid on the floor hands below clothes
Waking at 3 o'clock coming alive withering slow
In a way, or not

The world is well shut to us
But we got men from the other side
Pelle, The Lance and Björn
singing our dreams that we don't have

Each of us collected to herself
Terrible sins terrible times we can't say
Guarded into our chests

This is what we were
When the world didn't speak our names
Or we rather didn't speak his
And it wasn't like we cared - we'll never be them
But crippled we were
I could have had it better
But I was stunted instead

And now I am still metal legged
but we dance, we dance