She takes her cold coffee with sugar packets, yes
She'll squeeze her toothpaste dry
For whispers no one hears.
For all she suffers, 
For another,
It's not me.
It's not me.
She'll recount her fares full like the back seat.

Enough peak minutes I stalk her stuttered speech.
For all she suffers,
For another,
It's not me.
It's not me.
For all she suffers,
For another,
It's not me.
It's not me.
It's not me, no
It's not me.