She’s just five foot something,
With hair that color,
Stuck to her forehead.
And eyes that color,
Stuck to her heart.
And she cried a little too long last night,
But concealer conceals dark circles and broken hearts.

You know her face ‘cause you’ve seen it before,
Each day in the mirror.
Ink pen on her wrist,
Scars on her paper.
Those shoes in the back of his closet,
Ended up on her feet.
And the scent of her left like the traces in the sheets.

High heels, ash trays, lipstick, lights.
Chasing after daydreams,
And faking for the fights.
And you’d like to hope, that she’d be alright.

He said he fixed her before,
And he swears he’ll fix her again.
But she needed stitches not first aid.
Shattered glass and paper cuts,
Shallow wounds hurt the deepest.
Broken mirrors bring seven years bad luck.
And he told her she was beautiful,
But she called him a liar.
Because he can’t tell her what she can’t believe is true.

Slamming her fist into his chest,
Trying to getaway.
You can’t love her,
Until you let her.
Go.

Slamming his fist into the wall.
Trying to find a way.
But you can’t fix her.
Until you let her.
Grow.

She’s just five foot something,
And looking for love.
Looking in all the wrong places.
Searching treasure maps for roads,
And highway signs for a pot of gold.
Because she’s broken,
Like a rear view mirror,
That she couldn’t bear to see her reflection in.
And she’s driving to fix her problems,
And she’s starving to find her way.

Headphones, sweatshirt, blurry eyes, lights.
Driving in the darkness,
Finding a place in the night.
And you’d like to hope, that she’d be alright.

And he swore that he loved her,
And he probably did.
But nothing says “I love you,”
About killing someone softly.
He kept her from the truth.
He kept her from the Savior,
And tried saving her himself.

She’s just five foot something,
And she broke down last night.
Flat tire and empty promises,
Just left her on the side of I-85.
Spare hearts aren’t found as easily as spare tires.
And she lost all trust in mechanics.

Crying,
Dying,
He didn’t come through.
He promised he’d fix her.
But she’s more broken than ever before.
Headlights out,
Windshield wipers on.
Looking for love in dotted white lines.

And she never saw it coming,
Being this girl,
She always swore she’d be just fine.
Now all that’s left, is a handful of change,
Receipts from the past,
And some blank checks that bounced.
And you’d like to hope, that she’d be alright.

Walked in the rain,
Felt like a hundred miles.
To dry off, you have to get wet,
To live, you have to die.
But the distance was too daring,
And hope had all but gone,
Until that light shone through a night made for sorrow.

Hope, brimming.
Love, skimming.
Along the surface of her skin like the rain on the highway.
A hand that went through nails,
A heart that went through Hell.
A voice says, “you’re wanted,”
A hand says, “you’re protected.”
And she finally understood, that she’d be alright.