Sometimes she looks out the window, watching her hair grow Down to her neck below her head, the paint she put on the picture Hiding the hole on the picture Runs again But she doesn't mind if it does 'cos all she is thinking of Is whatabout peace, whatabout love and whatabout us?
All night all high, the girl is broken on the wall She holds the ending to it all Right there in her hand Whatabout peace (etc.)
