Picking at your cars
 Stealing at your clothes
 Finding out what you don't know
 You don't know

 I don't want to be your big star
 Picking your calls; saying I don't know
 I don't want to be your suitor
 Lacking at your feet
 Trying to love the things you need

 Oh you know I've heard this before
 And you know I've heard this some more
 And please give me the chance
 To break down your door
 But I sit
 Oh Oh
 I still sit here

 I don't want to be another tailor
 Pricking at your thumb
 Washing all the tears away
 Some words
 Oh no I believe they don't feel you
 Picking up your dirt
 And washing dreams away