Lyrics
Sister's hair hangs low, not low enough to pull you up
When she's a martyr of a mind, you're a culprit in its eye
And hardly skipping through the days,
you play the part of nods and yeahs
Each word a curse, can't shake the room,
can give her hope but she won't recieve you
Sophia, she don't believe you,
don't believe you when you're trying just to explain
That you don't believe that a falling leaf dictates that it will snow,
But she's been so cold so I guess she'd know.
Hear the prayers from in the hall,
hands are tired and your knees are raw
And the tragic part about the tomb,
she's only right when she's left without you