Only few know she even exists.
She keeps to herself, in fear
I hear
She dares only to give a tear
when she's filled with beer.
I hear
I don't know what she looks like
I don't know what she likes to do
I don't know what she stands for
Or
If she has ever walked out that door.
There are many lonely people others never get to /see/. No one can really know what the other goes through behind the closed doors.
