She killed herself every night while she slept
So waking up always felt like a miracle
And she was in love with her misery
With a cigarette in her left hand
And her right on the steering wheel
She cried to the rhythm of the windshield wipers
And drove through the rain without a destination
Snapping pictures through the rearview
She organized them from last to first
She likes recalling memories in reverse
She says it's less painful to watch
when you know that in the end
She makes it home again
*Well as long as you make it home again