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Move It Up

de Orange Street

She began to tell
The story 'bout her hell
She hated being at home
But loved to be alone
Inside

Heaven was her name
She was not to blame
For the pain of her past.
When the rabbit howled
The river stopped to flow
Heaven at last
Was hiding her past.
While her pride was asking to grow.

She thought about her fears -
Many of them,
And cried some awful tears -
Didn't know where to begin
Her pain is quite too real
To understand that feel
I thought.

Heaven was her name
She was not to blame
For the pain of her past...

She's got some fantasy in
Her mind that's scraping her skin
She's got some stories for you
I swear you'd doubt if they're true.

Heaven was her name
She was not to blame
For the pain of her past...

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