Letras
I used to look out my window at night
When I was a child
I used to wonder what kinds of people
Were hiding behind the lights
I would ask myself questions about their lives
Cross my heart
Hope to die
That someone thinks I'm pretty when I cry
Sometimes when I drive
I wonder what sorts of things I hide
From the airplanes in the sky
Wonder if they think about the fact that I'm alive
In reality, they're thinking about their connecting flight
Cross my heart
Hope to die
That someone thinks I'm pretty when I cry
I used to look out my window at night
When I was a child
I used to wonder what kinds of people
Were hiding behind the lights