Fawning, burning, crawling, yearning, falling: a greenhorn learning Bread and water, bricks and mortar Quicksand Martyr I built you this home complete with Stockholm Syndrome You're a word that I can't spell with a meaning I don't know I'm Deborah Bradshaw walking house to house with handicrafts, in Idaho, speaking in monotone It's so obvious, I can't believe that you don't see All I've ever wanted is to exist inside your brain Romance or nearest offer, just know my fucking name