Little girl with big old dreams She carries demons though it seems She's always up and feeling fine When she's asked every time She fakes a smile and hides her pain Cause she knows you won't ask again She's done this many times before You'll talk about yourself some more She wishes you'd say something real Like 'hey how do you really feel?' But you just comment on the time You're running late its half past nine And she'll go home and cry alone But always stays beside the phone Just incase that someone needs their Happy girl, their happy happy girl When you see her on the street She wants to know about your week If you've been well and how's your mum You say 'good thanks but got to run' You never asked her how she was Or how she's dealing with her loss You didn't notice she looked thin Too busy fake complimenting You kiss goodbye, suggest a lunch But she won't hear from you that month But that's okay she's used to it This little girl is made of brick And she'll go home and cry alone But always stays beside the phone Just incase that someone needs their Happy girl, happy happy girl Happy happy girl Happy happy girl Happy happy girl