Mary’s wiping ashes from her clothes 
 Blackened matches strewn across the floor 
 The smoke rose slowly and was pushed out by the vent 
 The guiding light was just the tip of her cigarette 
 She smokes in bed 

 Mary doesn’t care about herself 
 So what chance is there for anybody else 
 Sometimes I wonder about the heartache that lies ahead 
 Any day now she’ll set fire to her head 
 She smokes in bed 

 Nervous neighbors peeping through the blinds 
 Piercing sirens cutting through the night 
 [bad word] settling to rest 
 They searched for hours 
 There wasn’t anybody left 
 She smoked in bed