You Can’t Tell Her Anything

I can see through my dirty window
The bindweed around the trellis
I can see through my dirty window
The bike and the rust
Sarah moved here in 97'
She couldn't go to bed without a drink
She couldn't lie, but she could think
With her forehead on my dirty window
Whenever she came
She never bought wine
The better she looked each time
Whenever she left
She took all my best intentions and turned around
I can see through my dirty window
A garden the size of a shed
We would take chairs on the rubble, the mud
And sort of be in love
Whenever she came
She never bought wine
The better she looked each time
Whenever she left
She took all my best intentions and turned around
You can't tell her anything