Suzanne Vega - Straight Lines

There's a soundAcross the alleyOf cold metalTouching skinAnd you can seeIf you look in her windowThat she has gone and cutHer hair againIn straight linesStraight linesThose soft golden lights in the morningAre now on her wooden floorThe wind has swept them through the apartmentShe don't need themAny moreAny moreAny moreShe's cut downOn her loversThough she still dreamsOf them at nightShe's growing straight linesWhere once were flowersShe is streamlinedShe is taking the shade downFrom the lightTo see the straight linesStraight linesShe wants to cut through the circlesThat she has lived in beforeShe wants to finally kill the delusionsShe won't need themAny moreAny moreAny moreBut there's a soundAcross the alleyOf cold metalToo close to the boneAnd you can seeIf you look in her windowThe face of a womanFinally aloneBehind straight linesStraight lines