She's never lonely when she's alone,
one-sided talking but she's not on the phone,
kicking and screaming like she's fighting for her life,
but there's no crazy killer coming at her with a knife.
Playing the radio to cover the screams,
listen to the girl come apart at the seams,
how many people trapped inside of she?
caught back in childhood fantasy,
but being a kid ain't all fun and games,
the ones that did it to her hear her naming the names.
I feel sorry for the girl next door,
but I'm not in love with the girl next door