Eleanor clings to the thread laid ahead of her
Following down the long road that has lured her in
Never sees anything but what she's meant to see
In a way, never found what she felt sent to say
Sophie's face, the chapel that's become her hiding place
How the voices change from hymns to the panic, their loss of shame
And now she prays, pleading that someday she'll find a way
To explain how she belongs to a different name
Oliver, like a magpie collecting his souvenir
He never cared for more than one possession from a pair
His brother's things, a cricket glove, batteries, a ball of string
A treasure trove of things that they'd miss but they never loved
Probably, you were just who I was meant to be
A right version, something resembling a good person
Let me try, one more time to be a better I
And I'll hold it in, and make something more than this one I've been