She stands in the doorway
Her hands in the air
Reminding herself
that she oughta care
But it takes so long
for the drink to kick in
And the mood to resolve
That ol' feeling of sin

She looks out the window
the streets look quite old
familiar surroundings
and the story is told
growing up as an angel
getting knocked to the ground
tied to a lamp post
and never make a sound

But the thing that she misses 
Misses the most
Is the smell from the kitchen
And her mother the host (Burnt toast!)

It's hard to think clear
with your life through a glass
Time flying by and moving so fast
And it takes so long
to see where it went wrong
Back again one day and feeling so strong

But the thing that she misses 
Misses the most (x3)
Is the smell from the kitchen
And her mother the host (Burnt toast!)