Lyrics Jonathan Coulton

Jonathan Coulton

You Could Be Her

I run the Goddamned pretzel store at Buckingham Mall

Here on the east wing's second floor, I'm belle of the ball

But at night I could swear that I'm someone else

Someone who's better

Why does no one come here to save me?

Why won't anybody stay?

'Cause I've got it in my head that maybe

You could be her

Six hundred dollars, seven days, and I drink all I make

While people with great big fat BA's, they move and they shake

I can't dress me up, I can't take me out

I can't do nothing

Why does no one come here to save me?

Why won't anybody stay?

'Cause I've got it in my head that maybe

You could be her

You don't come by no more

You never wear that sweater I like

You don't say nothing that makes me think I'll ever get out of here

It's six in the morning, I'm awake, and it's nobody's fault

I knot them up tightly, watch them bake, and rub in the salt

Somewhere, there's a hell that was meant for me

And I think I found it

Why does no one come here to save me?

Why won't anybody stay?

'Cause I've got it in my head that maybe

You could be her