two of my favourites of miss Sheryl :

                                                                                   suzanne crow

i woke up this morning and now i understand
what it means to give your love to just one man

afraid of feeling nothing no bees or butterflies
my head is full of voices and my house is full of lies

i found you standing there when i was seventeen
now i'm thirty-two and i can't remember what i'd seen in you

now i'm reading romance novels and dreaming of yesterday
and everything i wanted is now driving me away

i woke this morning to the sound of breaking hearts
mine is full of questions and it's tearing yours apart.

:::

i read your book and i find it strange
that i know that girl and i know her world a little too well

and i didn't know by giving my hand
that i would be written down sliced around passed down
among stranger's hands

you carry a pen and a paper and no time and no words you waste
oh you're a voyeur, the worst kind of thief
to take what happened to us
to write down everything that went on between you and me

and what do i get . do i get revenge
while you lay it all out without any doubt
sometimes it goes
sometimes we come
to learn by mistake that the love once made
can't be undone

('home' & 'the book'')